


a long way back from seventeen

by kamisado



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Canonical Character Death, M/M, Prequel, where noah hangs out at a skatepark and has a happy life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-21
Updated: 2017-06-25
Packaged: 2018-07-25 22:30:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 32,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7549774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kamisado/pseuds/kamisado
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Noah was just a boy, carrying skateboard scrapes and parking tickets and art projects. He swam fast, smoked faster, and fell in love easily and completely.</p><p>[a trc prequel]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. october

**Author's Note:**

> title taken from 'bored to death' by blink 182 (aka the most noah song ever written lbr)
> 
> now with added mixtapes! [[side a](http://indigoecho.tumblr.com/post/162132987017/side-a-before-a-playlist-for-a-long-way-back)] and [[side b](http://indigoecho.tumblr.com/post/162212526022/side-b-after-a-playlist-for-a-long-way-back)]

Stephen Spigman pushed his bicycle along the greasy road out of Henrietta, narrowing his eyes against the pounding rain. The mangled front wheel rattled every step, matching the limp he’d gained, and he huffed angrily, contemplating whether it would be worth it just to chuck the whole wretched thing into a field and call it quits. _But then how’d you get to school tomorrow, dumbass?_ He tried to reason with himself, breaking off to cuss loudly as a car sped past, dousing him with muddy water. Cycling from all the way out of town to Mountain View High was bad enough, but October was Henrietta’s thunderstorm season and the weather was generally unrelenting. Stephen did his best to make it bearable – headphones on under giant raincoat, cycle like hell, unsafe but uncaring.

So yeah, maybe it was a little his fault that some Aglionby asshole had backed over his bike while he was still on it, but the bastard had sped off with a stupid little salute in his stupid little uniform and barely a scratch on his stupid shiny car.

Thoughts of Aglionby boys plagued him often, his daily commute forcing him to pass the huge gated entrance, catching glimpses of sprawling brick buildings and manicured lawns. Jealousy would rise up sharply within him every time but he’d force it down – his parents were doing their best; he couldn’t resent them for not being able to afford somewhere like _that._

He was still thinking bitterly of Aglionby bastards and their entitled chortling when one of them pulled up beside him. It had to be an Aglionby boy in a classic red Mustang like that, and sure enough when the window rolled down, Stephen could see the navy v-neck sweater with the black raven crest.

“Hey there, are you alright?” The boy inside the car called out, over the rumble of distant thunder. His voice dipped and rolled with a slight Henrietta accent, but Stephen could tell this was something he’d acquired, not been raised with like Mountain View kids. He slowed his pace but didn’t stop, trying to keep his eyes fixed on the horizon. Frankly, it wouldn't have surprised him if this was part of some elaborate prank that was gonna end up with him stripped naked and bound to a lamp post.

“I heard Jameson rolled his Benz over your ass, I thought I’d come out and see if you needed a hand.” Stephen looked across at this boy, the car rolling alongside him slowly. He could see a pale freckled face peering up at him, a messy sweep of blond hair slowly darkening from the rain blowing in through the open window.  “Not all the protein powder and money in the world could help that guy grow a brain,” the boy added, sensing Stephen’s reticence. At that, Stephen had to crack a smile. If there was one thing Aglionby boys were awful at, it was self-awareness. They’d sit there in perfect little groups, guffawing about expensive internships and foreign holidays. Stephen hated how alien they were, so distant and untouchable.  But this boy in the car next to him looked rumpled and messy, as if he longed to be wearing anything but an Aglionby sweater.

“Can I give you a lift home?” Stephen fixed his eye on the horizon again, trying to make out the shape of his ramshackle farmhouse in the distance. The bright flash of lightning nearby as much as made the decision for him, as he weighed up the safety of being in the middle of plains with a useless metal bike in a thunderstorm against getting into a stranger’s car. There was something genuine in the way this kid looked up at him, a kindness in his eyes.

“Sure,” Stephen called out, shouting to be heard over the thunder. The Mustang drew to a stop as the boy jumped out and leaned into the back of his car pulling the seats flat. Stephen wasn’t entirely sure what this kid was doing until he leaned across to take Stephen’s mangled bike and slide it neatly into the car. The gesture made Stephen smile; he’d still been contemplating tossing the whole mangled thing into a ditch right up until that second.

“Hop in!” the boy called, as he clambered back into the car. Stephen climbed in relishing in the warmth and relative dryness of the leather seats underneath him. The inside smelt warmly of pleasant aftershave and cigarette smoke. Any anxiety he’d had about getting in melted away as he stared at the pale hands tapping a gentle rhythm onto the steering wheel as the engine revved, and they sped down the road, fast but controlled.

“I’m Stephen, by the way. Stephen Spigman.” Stephen suddenly felt very shy in front of this Aglionby boy and his Aglionby car and not-at-all-Aglionby gestures.

“Noah. Noah Czerny.”

*

The ride home had been largely a one-sided conversation. Noah liked to talk at length about the most ridiculous things that Stephen only barely understood, like how strange his roommate was and how much he loved watercolour pencils and why the gelato place in town was literally the best place on earth. Even so, Stephen found himself hanging on every word.  Noah talked as if they’d been friends forever, and Stephen struggled to remember the last time anyone at Mountain View had spoken to him like that. Mostly they liked to trip him over and hock phlegm at him, yelling ‘Spitman, Spitman’.

He felt a strange pang of sadness when they pulled up to his house, as Noah leapt out of the car and helped him slide the bicycle out. The torrential rain had thinned to a slight drizzle, enough to maybe chat a little longer, but Stephen forced himself to remember that Noah was an Aglionby boy and probably had Aglionby-boy-things to be doing elsewhere.

“Thank you,” Stephen said, feeling woefully inadequate as he met Noah’s eyes. He thought maybe he should shake hands with him or something, _that’s what those guys do, right?_ But as he began to extend his hand, Noah grinned wide and clapped him on the shoulder before jumping back into his car. Stephen couldn’t help a small smile at the peeling _blink-182_ bumper sticker on the back of the Mustang; it signalled common ground.

“See you around, Stephen!” Noah called as the car sped away, a fading dust-cloud in the direction of Henrietta.


	2. november

Over the next few weeks, Stephen almost forgot about Noah. He tinkered with his bike and toiled on his parents’ farm and desperately tried to pass his mock exams, preparation for the real thing come May. Stephen liked to think he was good at studying, even if his GPA disagreed sometimes, but if there was one thing that eluded him it was math. Numbers go in, weird shit happens, wrong numbers come out. He couldn’t quite make it make _sense_ like he could everything else, and Stephen couldn’t stand things that didn’t make sense.

After another fruitless session in the library, Stephen found himself cycling homewards out of Henrietta, the red ink D on his last test weighing heavily in his backpack. The winter air was cool and damp around him, plaid shirt clammy on his back as he counted down the minutes until he could throw himself down on the sofa and rest. He’d almost reached the edge of town when he saw the sprawl of roadworks spanning the road ahead, a hive of flashing lights and sharp-scented asphalt. Instinctively, he was about to cut around it, exhausted and frustrated, when a thickset man in high-vis stomped over, yelling at him to turn back, go through the park.

Stephen sighed heavily and reluctantly turned his bike around. He hated the park at the best of times, and the mid-November sun had deserted him hours ago. _Nothing like getting mugged on your way home to brighten your day_ , he thought bitterly, speeding around the corner and through the underpass that led to a poorly lit children’s play area and a graffiti-strewn outdoor skateboard area. Stephen had only been through the park a few times at night, but he knew that people who hung out at skate parks at night could only ever be bad news.

As he raced along the slick asphalt, mind filled with thoughts of getting jumped, he completely failed to notice the gaping pothole in the middle of the path. The speed he’d been going along with the depth of the pothole sent Stephen soaring over his handlebars, and down to the ground with a crash. _Shit shit shit,_ Stephen thought, ignoring the stinging in his elbows as he pulled himself up. _They’re definitely gonna get me now._

“Hey, you okay over there?” A female voice called from underneath the big ramp. Stephen could see a huddle of people, faces dimly lit by the glow of cigarette cherries. He scrambled to his feet, about to jump back onto his bike and cycle like he’d never cycled before when another voice called out.

“Wait, I know this guy!” Hearing that was never a good sign – it all too frequently ended up in getting spat on. But the voice made him freeze, foot on pedal, elbows stinging from the fall.  One of the figures emerged from the huddle, tall and gangly, and in the light of the yellow streetlamp, Stephen could make out a wide smile he recognised. It was strange to see him out of Aglionby uniform – gone was the sweater and khakis, replaced by a frayed black sweater pushed up to the elbows and washed-out jeans made of more rips than denim.

“Noah? Is that you?” Stephen called out, bracing himself to pedal off if this was just some trick of the light. He could feel blood trickling down his forearms where he’d broken his fall.

“Stephen! Oh man, good to see you!” Noah clapped him on the shoulder again, as if it had only been days since they’d seen each other and not a whole month, and Stephen clambered off his bike. “Are you alright?” Stephen leant his bike against the streetlamp as he peeled back his sleeves. Noah raised a cigarette to his mouth and let it fall again, blowing smoke away from Stephen before peering in to see the damage.

“Aw shit,” Stephen muttered, taking in the scrapes up both arms, from elbow to wrist. Blood pooled from them, dripping into his hands.

“We can sort you out,” Noah said, dropping his cigarette butt to the ground and placing his hands under Stephen’s elbows to elevate them. His hands were warm, soft. Stephen wasn’t used to such casual touching; his family weren’t really the hugging sort and he didn’t really have many friends to speak of, but there was something in Noah’s gestures which was just so casual, so easy. Leaving his bike propped up, Stephen followed Noah over to the huddle of people.

There were only five of them huddled together under the ramp, which made the racing fear in Stephen’s heart slow a little. It only lasted about a second though before he realised that at least one of Noah's friends was someone he recognised from Mountain View. _Insult incoming in 3…2…_

“Hey Pigman!” yelled a dark haired guy from the back corner, lifting a dark beer bottle skyward in mock salute. Jack Delgarno was the resident school hard-ass, held back at least twice and still a serial truanter to boot. Any trouble at Mountain View, Delgarno wasn’t just involved, he was usually the main orchestrator, pulling at all the strings where nobody else could see him. Stephen sighed, dropping his eyes to the floor. _Well, it was nice well it lasted._ In the faint glow, he could see Noah frown.

 “Knock it off Del, you're the only pig I see,” he said jovially. Stephen could see Noah’s mouth twist into a smirk, but his eyes remained vaguely unimpressed.

“Fuck you, Czerny,” he replied, but there was no malice in it, rather a friendly camaraderie. He took a swig from his bottle and sunk back into the gloom, chuckling to himself.

The next people Stephen were introduced to were also Mountain View kids, two girls he vaguely recognised from the year above him. “Jenny-and-Inez.” Noah had introduced them in one breath, as if they were a single entity, and from the way Jenny was sat curled around her girlfriend, it was difficult in the gloom to tell them apart. Stephen braced himself for more insults, but luckily the pair of them only vaguely recognised him and if he looked hard enough he could see two kind faces peering up at him through the darkness. The iron grip of fear in his chest loosened a little at their  smiles.

However, the fifth and final member of the group was deeply unsettling. He sat up on one of the supporting joists of the ramp, peering down at the others, a king languidly surveying his royal subjects. Every time he flicked his cigarette, ash would sprinkle liberally over Stephen’s messy curls, which automatically made Stephen hate his entitled ass, but there was something to his sharp features and perfectly combed dark hair which gave him the appearance of a bird of prey. He didn't so much smile as sneer, and Stephen began to wonder why a guy like Noah would willingly hang out with a guy like _this_.

“And this up here is Barrington Whelk, my roommate.” Noah gave by way of introduction, his smile surprisingly genuine as he gave a dramatic sweeping bow. Stephen wracked his brain to try and remember what Noah had said about his roommate the first time they’d met, but couldn’t help a smile at Whelk’s disgruntled expression.

Thankfully for Stephen’s bleeding elbows, Inez had brought many, many band-aids. Now she was sat next to him, Stephen wondered how he could ever have mistaken the two girls for each other. Jenny was all sun-bronzed strong limbs and callused hands, but Inez was tiny and meticulously neat, with her hair pulled into two perfect dark braids.

“I always have loads because Czerny falls on his ass so many times,” Inez said with a smile, rinsing out the scrapes with a bottle of water. Her touch was gentle but brisk and efficient, and Stephen couldn’t help but be impressed.

“Ass, elbows, head, you name it I’ve fallen on it.” Noah sat cross-legged next to him, pulling his sleeve up to reveal a trail of bloody band-aids dotted all up his arm, intermingled with a rainbow of bruises. It looked a total mess to Stephen, but Noah was smiling as if his greatest achievements were laid bare in front of them. “It’s the price I gotta pay for skateboarding supremacy,” he said smugly, rolling his sleeve back down.

“Don’t listen to him, Stephen,” Jenny drawled from her corner, chewing absently on a thumbnail. “He still cries every time he falls off.”

“Hey, I’m trying to look tough here man!” Noah kicked out one raggedy sneaker, somehow managing to hit Delgarno’s forearm, Whelk’s foot and Jenny’s shin in one clumsy swipe. “I’m still the best though,” he added in a conspiratorial stage whisper, leaning in towards Stephen. There was barely enough room for four people huddled underneath the ramp so six was a definite push. Stephen had been keeping one eye on Whelk up on his perch, but now Noah was so close Stephen could feel warm breath on his ear.  Stephen’s heart pounded in his ears, a loud, persistent tattoo, but he wasn’t entirely sure _why_. Either way, he was suddenly thankful for the low light, hiding the dark blush spreading across his cheeks.

Of course, Whelk had to ruin it.

“Hey Czerny,” Whelk crowed, cigarette dangling from the side of his mouth as he stared out into the darkness. He was still perched high up on the metal work, and Stephen longed to see him tumble off backwards. “Seen Lily lately?”

Delgarno forced back a snort, but Stephen couldn’t escape the unmistakeable blush creeping up Noah’s neck as he leaned back on his hands, exuding forced nonchalance as he moved away from Stephen. Stephen didn’t like where this was going.

“Who’s Lily?” he asked, although figured he probably already knew the answer.

“Czerny’s _girl_ friend.” Whelk’s eyes shone hungrily in the darkness. Stephen felt his heart sink but he didn’t really know why. Of course a guy like Noah had a girlfriend. Aglionby boys always had beautiful girlfriends, well-educated and witty. They grew up to be Senators and Statesmen with 2.5 kids and a picket fence.

“She had hockey practice,” was all Noah said, as if this was completely inconsequential to what everyone else was doing. An uncomfortable silence fell over the group.

“Hey, who wants to arm wrestle?” Jenny called out after a few minutes, her Henrietta accent echoing in the still air as she rolled her sleeves up with a flourish. As Delgarno enthusiastically took her up on her offer, Stephen couldn’t help but sneak a look over at Noah, who was lighting up another cigarette thoughtfully, expression unreadable. As their eyes met, the quiet, contemplative Noah suddenly slid away as quickly as he had arrived.

“Right, who’s next?”

*

Even though Stephen wasn’t much into drinking and he wouldn’t know where to begin with a cigarette, the group seemed to accept him as one of their own. By the time ten thirty rolled around, all memory of the previous awkwardness had faded into a dull reminiscence. Noah and Inez were embroiled in a furious and slightly tipsy game of thumb-war which he was fast losing; Delgarno was carving his initials into the metalwork with his house keys. Stephen and Jenny chatted about farming, how they both hated Henrietta’s extremes in temperature and extortionate prices for just about anything. Whelk was the only one who refused to join in the fun, chain-smoking and staring off at the hazy sky, but Stephen wasn’t too fussed – it wasn’t like they were deliberately _trying_ to leave him out.

“I guess I’d better be off,” Stephen said, as the conversation found a lull. Amid Noah and Jenny’s protestations, he clambered to his feet with aching limbs, and squinted towards the path to make sure nobody had made off with his bike. There wasn’t much space to get up and he definitely stepped on at least two people’s fingers in the process but to his surprise Noah scrambled up too.

“Fuck, I dropped my phone down by the path.” Noah patted down his pockets dramatically, coming up empty. Whelk scoffed and Delgarno rolled his eyes but there was something in the way Inez was trying to suppress a smirk that made Stephen’s stomach flutter. With the promise of coming back to hang out, Stephen bid the motley crew of Noah’s friends goodnight, and made his way back towards the path.

“I’d give you a lift home,” Noah said suddenly, as Stephen climbed back onto his bike. His voice was sheepish, and Stephen could see Noah rubbing his hand on the back of his neck. The gesture surprised him; he was sure he was mistaken but Noah looked almost…shy? _It’s just the light_ , he told himself, trying not to think about the implications of a Noah who wasn’t a constant whirlwind of impulsive decision. _He has a beautiful Aglionby girlfriend, remember?_ “But Whelk’s driving me back to Aglionby tonight and, y’know…” Stephen smiled and nodded in understanding. He hadn’t expected a lift back and he certainly didn’t want a lift back with Whelk. The guy seemed all kinds of shady and Stephen half-wondered if he’d even make it home at all if he accepted a lift from that jackass.

“We should hang out again sometime though!” Noah said, clapping his hand on Stephen’s shoulder. It’d become somewhat familiar to Stephen, and the trace of anything on Noah’s face except for his usual unbridled enthusiasm had melted away. Stephen was beginning to think that there was something in Noah’s excitable nature that was a little practised. “Here, if you give me your number, I can let you know if we’re about,” he said, reaching down and pulling his phone out of his sock.

“You didn’t lose your phone at all.” The words had tumbled out of Stephen’s mouth before he could stop them, and he couldn’t mistake the split-second panic that passed across Noah’s face.

“Nah, I just wanted a last-minute chat before I get dragged away by Whelk,” Noah said lightly, his tone jokey but his eyes not quite meeting Stephen’s. Stephen felt a little embarrassed handing over his crappy brick phone with the cracked screen, but it was a small price to pay for getting to hang out again. The silence stretched out between them as Noah pulled out his much fancier model, slim with a flip screen, and started keying Stephen’s number into his phone.

Not for the first time, Stephen wished he was better with words.

“Well… I guess I’ll see you later?” Stephen said eventually, his tone calm and measured, betraying the tightness in his chest. _Lily, Lily, remember Lily._

“Yeah, hope so!” Noah said chirpily as he waved Stephen off into the darkness. It felt all at once too much and woefully inadequate.

As he counted down the mile markers to his house, Stephen did some more math. _As if I haven’t done enough already today._ He’d known Noah for all of three hours, plus the extra half hour when they’d first met. Three and a half hours. One half of a school day; one decent video gaming session. But Stephen just couldn’t shake the thought of Noah from his mind, the feeling of warm breath on his ear as he learned closer.

The obnoxious beeping from his pocket from an incoming text shook him from his thoughts as he pulled into his dusty yard.

_gud 2 c u 2nite dude same tym on tues??? ;D_

Stephen smiled.


	3. december (part 1)

The blue glow of the phone screen lit up the room, casting strange and winding shadows up the walls. In the darkness, Stephen scrambled to pick it up; the clock at the top of the screen blinked _00:32_ in garish white. He was grateful he’d had the foresight to set his phone to silent; the first time Noah had decided to text him late, he’d woken with such a start at the obnoxious beeping noise he’d thought his room was burning down around him. 

And of course it was Noah texting at this hour.

_hey dude u up?? i jst thought of smthn amazin_

Stephen was the kind of person who could never get straight to sleep, seventeen going on forty-five, wracked with the constant fear of a wasted youth. In comparison, Noah was the kind of person who never seemed to sleep at all.

Recently Noah seemed to be filled with all kinds of ostentatious plans, most of which involved getting rich quick and moving far away from Henrietta. His enthusiasm was so infectious, even through text, that Stephen couldn’t help but join in, no matter how ridiculous the plans were. As quickly as he could muster with tired fingers and squinting eyes, he fired back a quick _Yeah, can’t sleep, what’s up?_

Within seconds, his phone lit up again.  Stephen lifted himself onto one elbow, waiting for the next text to come in. Noah always sent several texts at once before a response was necessary, which Stephen liked as it gave him time to think about what to say back.

_ok picture this_

_i get so gd @ sk8ing_

_like hella good beta thn tony hawk_

_so i do it upside dwn_

Smirking and flopping back on his bed, Stephen held his phone above his face, squinting at the brightness. Even though crippling shyness often choked him of his words in person, he found texting to be a much better outlet for his thoughts. Noah was just so _relaxed_ about everything that Stephen didn’t fear being judged like he did with everyone else. He couldn’t help cheekily messaging back _I’m pretty sure that’s been done before??_ Noah’s response was almost instantaneous.

_yh but like 1 handed blindfolded_

_mayb on fire 2_

_im so rad they call me chaos czerny_

_i join the circus + tour the wrld ok xD_

Stephen felt his smile grow wider at the influx of texts, one after the other. _Okay dude I’ll bring fire extinguishers/paramedics,_ he texted back, flatly refusing to sacrifice legibility and vowels for speed. The conversation continued in a similar vein, Noah suggesting plans, and Stephen suggesting how he’d be there to help fix the oversights and pitfalls to make them a reality.

Schoolwork and snowfall had prevented Stephen and Noah from meeting up at the skatepark much, but every time they had it was as if they’d only seen each other hours before. A shout, a shoulder-slap, a smile. When it was too slippery to skate, when Noah had wiped out one too many times and could no longer be bothered, they’d sit huddled together on the park bench, one headphone each from Noah’s tiny orange mp3 player. Blink 182 and Brand New and Green Day, the odd bit of Fall Out Boy. Common ground.

Warm breath blown into the hollows of cool cupped hands, the patchy green-grey frost of early winter.

Even in the most boring classes and lonely lunchbreaks, Noah always seemed to have a silly observation or terrible joke to share. Stephen had often wondered if the classes at Aglionby were better than they were at Mountain View, but going by the frequency of Noah’s messages, they were clearly just as engaging.

_wat do u do if u see a spaceman??_

_park in it man!!_

_actuly jks on me i gt anutha ticket 2day 4 prking in the sensry grden again lmao_

_Why would you even do that?_

_was runnin late + teachers prkin was full??_

Stephen had to roll his eyes at that. For all of his un-Aglionby traits, every now and then Noah would do or say something that would inevitably remind Stephen of how different they really were. But he knew deep down Noah wasn’t being deliberately being an asshole, not like some of the other Aglionby boys Stephen had met. He was just a kid who didn’t know any better.

And cringing at horrible jokes aside, Stephen usually couldn’t resist a smile at the messages, forcing back the tightness in his chest every time he saw that four-letter name on the screen.

Not to mention, Noah’s friends were making Mountain View more bearable too. Inez would always say hi in passing, usually running to her next AP class, arms laden with stacks of brightly-coloured textbooks. Jenny turned out to be in a handful of Stephen’s classes, not that he’d noticed before. She swung on her seat at the back, chewing gum ferociously, and Stephen dutifully sat front and centre, hands folded, eyes front. Despite her complete lack of interest in class, they’d still trade notes and juicy gossip every now and then. After every conversation, Stephen felt a little lighter and found it a little easier to smile.

Even Delgarno stopped to talk to him when he was in school, much to everyone’s surprise. He’d showed up for literally all of a week before getting promptly suspended yet again, this time over a spectacular prank involving a box of donuts, a bottle of baby oil and a single lurid pink flip-flop. But Stephen swore that he hadn’t so much as been called Pigman in weeks, never mind kicked down and spat on, and he had a sneaky feeling Delgarno was pulling strings somewhere.

 _anyway gud nite man ill c u round! ;D_ Stephen could barely keep his eyes open long enough to read the text, never mind register the time, but he managed to text back _Goodnight :)_ before falling into a pleasant dreamless slumber.

*****

December brought freezing weather and fairy lights to Henrietta. Stephen loved Christmas; there was just something special about how even the most dingy corners of the town he’d been born and raised in seemed just that bit nicer, that bit _brighter_. Sipping on a huge steaming mug of black coffee, Stephen sat slouched in a back corner of Nino’s, a plate of crumbs from a much-savored slice of pizza at one elbow. The owner was perched on a wobbly chair, pinning tinsel along the top of the wall; the other two patrons of the restaurant held hands and made lovesick eyes at one another; the wait staff gossiped quietly about Christmas presents and New Year’s plans.

Class had ended two days ago, and Stephen was determined to forget the disaster that had been his mock exams. Junior year was winding up being all kinds of stressful, and here had always been his sanctuary. His battered sketchbook in front of him, he picked up a well-chewed biro and began to sketch the Henrietta skyline from memory.

_The neon lights of Nino’s. The brutal concrete lines of the school. The tops of skeletal trees lining the park. The big pine tree in the middle of town, covered in reams of sparkling tinsel and chains of tiny lights and-_

The peace was interrupted by the insistent buzzing of a text from Noah.

_hedin 2 sk8prk w lily + inez wanna come??_

Stephen took a long slow slurp of his coffee at that. Even though he’d been back to the skatepark a couple of times since he’d first met Noah and his friends, he still hadn’t met Lily. She always seemed to have any one of a multitude of extra-curricular activities to go to or one of many friends to meet, and Stephen was almost half-expecting her to be made-up, some kind of Aglionby in-joke.

 _Will be there in 10_ , Stephen texted back, before steadily finishing up his coffee and packing his sketchbook back into his battered leather satchel. He wondered what Lily would be like; if she was so perfect for Noah it would get rid of this strange feeling he felt in his chest whenever his phone lit up.

*

The air was cold and crisp and Stephen’s breath pillowed out in front of him as he trudged along the damp side street. The longest day of the year was fast approaching and even though it was only four in the afternoon, the sun was already low in the sky. Not for the first time that day, he missed his bike. The chain had snapped no less than three feet from his front door that morning so he’d made the somewhat regrettable decision to take the bus into town. Following a thirty minute affair filled with crying babies and angry pensioners, Stephen vowed he’d rather walk home.

Hands buried deep into the pockets of his tattered parka, he could see two figures waiting for him on the other side of the underpass, so close to one another they formed one silhouette against the light. _That must be her then,_ he thought, reminding himself to smile as he emerged from the darkness.

“Hey Stephen!” Noah called out as Stephen reached them, wearing the same cheesy grin as ever. Lily and Stephen exchanged polite introductions and she shook Stephen’s hand with a firm well-practiced handshake and a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

Lily was everything that Stephen expected from the girlfriend of an Aglionby boy. He couldn’t help but feel a sickening pang of inadequacy. There she was, golden-haired and impossibly beautiful, wearing a goose-down coat that probably cost more than the contents of Stephen’s entire wardrobe. Noah was a perfect fit next to her, in his dark wool coat and gloves, arm draped casually around her shoulders, like they’d stepped straight from a designer winter-wear magazine.

For the first time since meeting Noah, Stephen felt deeply out of place. There he was, trying to be their equal, with his clothes third-hand, his face weather-worn and his hands calloused. _Shit, where’s Inez_ , he thought, a little disheartened. _Please don’t let me third-wheel these guys all afternoon, I’d rather-_

“Hey guys!” Inez called out, right on cue, jogging over from the other side of the park. Stephen let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding as he saw her waving madly, arms sweeping wide enough to ground air traffic. He was suddenly very grateful for her presence and, as she drew closer, Stephen could tell she looked as if the feeling was mutual.

Lily nodded to Inez with the vague familiarity of someone she’d met once at a party and had never spoken to again. Inez smiled back, calm and expectant. The awkwardness was palpable, and Noah rushed to fill the silence.

“I haven’t seen either of you in _ages_ ,” he said, taking his arm from round Lily’s shoulders to elbow Inez. “How’s things at MV?”

“Oh man, you would not be _lieve_ what I’ve had to put up with this past few days,” Inez said, smiling as they made their way towards the skating area of the park. “Did you know, I saw a guy try to stab a cell out of agar with a pipette? Like how did you make it into AP Bio doing shit like that?”

Stephen couldn’t help but smirk; he had been so horrifically bad at Bio he’d probably done something like that in the past. As Inez rushed to fill Noah in on Mountain View’s latest happenings, plus the excruciating details surrounding Delgarno’s suspension, Stephen found himself walking alongside Lily. Her tight smile had quickly shifted to flat boredom, and he tried to summon up even the smallest bits of small talk to lighten the mood.

“Uh, so,” he started, trying to think of something, anything to ask that wasn’t just about Noah. “Where do you go to school?”

“Upstate, with Noah’s sisters,” she said, her voice clear and unmistakably non-Henrietta. “But I graduate in the spring.” Stephen felt all kinds of questions bubble up inside him, like _how long have you been dating?_ and _does he constantly text you ridiculous things too?_ but instead opted for the safe and polite: “So where are you thinking of heading in the fall?” At that, she smiled wide. She looked confident, delighted even, but all Stephen could see in her eyes was Whelk’s predatory gaze pinning him down.

“I’m going to Stanford. Pre-law.” Stephen expected nothing less, but he still felt his stomach twist with jealousy. He couldn’t help but wonder what Noah thought about her moving so far away. _Maybe he’ll follow her_ , Stephen thought, a little more bitterly than he’d intended.

“What about you, Stephen?” She turned her sharp gaze on him, and he suddenly felt very small. Noah and Inez were still in earshot, and Stephen didn’t really feel like admitting his real plans for the future for the three of them to scrutinize. He wasn’t entirely convinced they wouldn’t just laugh.

“Well, I’m still a junior,” he said, aiming for confident and missing by a long shot. “So I’m not really sure.” _When you put it like that, it’s not quite a lie,_ he thought, as Lily nodded thoughtfully. “But my grades are alright.” _Okay nice, we’re straight-up lying now._

Thankfully for Stephen, once they reached the ramps, Noah whisked Lily away to teach her how to skate.

“I can teach you guys too?” Noah had offered, but Inez politely declined on the grounds she’d brought some work to catch up on, and Stephen on the grounds that he had the spatial awareness of a drunken sloth. Noah had offered to teach him before, when it had just been the two of them, but Stephen was so afraid of embarrassing himself forever in front of Noah that he’d just blushed and shook his head furiously.

At that, Noah’s ever-present smile faltered a little but he nodded in understanding and left Stephen and Inez shoulder to shoulder on the tiny park bench. Inez dutifully pulled a heavy textbook with a forest green cover from her backpack and began highlighting passages in bright yellow. Stephen took a quick look to see what subject it was but only saw screeds of huge scientific formulae. _God, that could be anything… Algebra? Chemistry? Advanced molecular astrobiology?_

He turned his attention to Noah and Lily. The two were lit from behind: low winter sun glowing around them; Lily swaying slightly on the board as she moved; Noah holding both of her hands tightly. He was smiling up at her, eyes filled with warmth; she smiled back, brow furrowed in concentration. Stephen could see Noah’s mouth moving, too far away to hear the words, but sure they were encouraging all the same. _That could have been me._ The thought sprung from nowhere and Stephen forced himself to look away, a hot blush spreading across his cheeks.

 “So you like Noah, huh?” Inez said, quietly. _Shit, shit, shit. If she can tell, then who else can?_ She stared up at him, a small smile on her face, all thoughts of her textbook forgotten. Panic twisted sharply inside Stephen’s chest. Inez’s smile faded into a strange mixture of anxious and confused as Stephen looked away, desperately searching for an out.

“Sorry,” she said, reaching out to touch his arm. “I just thought...” She spoke in a low whisper, but Stephen’s flinch was full-body.

What came out next was a surprise, even for him a little, as he fought to keep his voice quiet and controlled. “This is not exactly, uh, public knowledge, okay.” Inez suddenly looked worried, as if she’d crossed a boundary, and folded her hands guiltily in her textbook. Stephen knew he’d given himself away, and stared determinedly at his ugly snowboots, willing the sleet-covered ground to open up and swallow him whole.

“Sorry, Stephen, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” She looked across at Noah and Lily, twisting one braid round and round her finger.  “If it’s any help, it’s not like I’m the authority on these kinds of things either.”

Stephen frantically wracked his mind for something to talk about to deflect from what he’d just admitted, and to stop him from saying anything he’d regret. He was still panicked at the idea that he’d been so transparent about how he felt, _what if he can tell too?_

“But like, you and Jenny-” he’d managed to choke out, before falling silent, unsure of what to say.

“Yeah, Jenny and I have been dating a while now, but like we haven’t dated forever. I just was a scrawny kid whose parents wanted her to take up a sport, and Jenny was the school’s badminton champ. She offered to help me out one day after she saw how freakin’ awful I was and the rest is history.” This time it was Inez’s turn to look at the ground as she smiled bashfully at the thought of Jenny.

“And back then, I didn’t know it was okay for me to like girls like that. But it was, and it is, and she made me realize that. I really love her, Stephen.”

Stephen thought again of Noah teaching him his favorite sport, holding his hands tightly, smiling up at him like that. His heart swelled in his chest at the thought.

But all he could see was Lily.

“I really am sorry, Stephen,” Inez said again, following his eyeline to the beautiful golden-haired couple in front of them. Stephen shook his head, dragging his eyes away from the two of them once more.

“It’s okay, Inez, don’t worry about it,” he said, with a sad smile, turning his thoughts of Noah over and over in his mind, reframing them in the context of liking him a bit more than just friends. “And about you and Jenny… Thanks. I really needed to hear that right about now.”

*

Thankfully for Stephen, he didn’t have to face the long hike home or the rickety shudder of the bus out of town because as soon as Noah heard Stephen’s bike was broken he’d offered up a lift home. Still reeling a little from his conversation with Inez, he’d nodded, watching her jog off home and shaking Lily’s hand once again before she headed across town to meet a friend.

“I like Lily a lot, dude,” Noah said as the car pulled out of Henrietta, fast and smooth. “Like we’ve been dating for a year now, and I just think she’s really cool.” Stephen couldn’t see the appeal himself, but she seemed nice enough, if a bit haughty. He nodded, watching the rolling fields pass by in the dim twilight.

“She’s headed to Cali in the fall. Stanford pre-law man, she’s like the smartest person I know. ‘Sides Whelk, but like he only ever talks about shit that happened hundreds of years ago.” Despite how casually he talked about Lily’s future, there was a set to Noah’s expression as he fixed his eyes on the road. His knuckles were white where he clenched the steering wheel. Stephen forced himself to quell the hope that sprung up inside him, _god Spigman don’t be such a fucking asshole all your life, this is rough_.

“I’m sure it’ll work out for you guys, though,” Stephen said, trying to sound sincere. “I mean, you’ve spent the last year in schools a whole state apart. And maybe you can go out to Cali to join her when you finish?” It hurt to say, but Stephen knew it was the right thing. Noah relaxed at that, tapping his fingers rhythmically on the wheel.

“Hey Stephen. You doing anything for New Year’s?” Stephen shook his head, surprised but relieved at the sudden change of topic. Usually New Year’s Eve was celebrated in front of the television, alone but for the family cat, Dusty. His mother usually worked New Year’s Day – _people still get sick on public holidays Stevey –_ and his father was too jaded to care any more. “My family usually have a huge New Year’s party at our house up near Philly. I know it’s a couple states over but Whelk and I usually drive up together and we’d be happy to give you a lift?” Stephen was struck dumb. Here he was, in a car with a boy he’d met only months before, an Aglionby boy at that, a boy he valued as a friend and wished could be more.

And now he was being invited two states over for a party.

“I d-,” stuttered Stephen. “I don’t really know what to say?” He saw that split-second panic in Noah’s eyes again, the same look he’d seen when Noah had given him his number. There it was again, that tightness in his chest.

“It’s okay, I mean, you don’t have to come, it’ll just be a bunch of people you don’t know and I just-” Noah was rambling now; if Stephen didn’t know any better, he’d have thought Noah was nervous.

“It’s fine, Noah. I’d love to go.” At that, Noah seemed to relax completely, melting back into his seat as he smiled across at Stephen.

“Awesome.”


	4. december (part 2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (just a heads up there's a mention of homophobia in this chapter)

For Stephen, Christmas came and went in a busy haze. He toiled hard with his father on the farm, kissed the powdered cheeks of great-aunts at awkward family gatherings, and acquired a new set of fancy ink pens from his parents. All in all, it was shaping up to be a pleasant end to the year.

Stephen spent the last day of 2007 stuffing clothes frantically into his overnight bag. The sun was barely up in the sky but Noah was due at 8am and Stephen didn’t want to keep him waiting around the farmyard, particularly not if Whelk was coming. His limbs were heavy with lethargy; he’d spent yet another late night texting Noah – what _do I wear? what should I bring? –_ and couldn’t remember what time he’d finally gone to sleep.

In his haste, or rather his half-awake panic, he barely heard his mother at the door.

“Jeez Mom, you made me jump,” he said, as they both bent down to pick up the towel he’d flung to the ground in surprise. “I thought you’d be at work.”

“Day shift today, honey,” she said, beating him to it and handing it to him. “I didn’t think you knew there were two seven-o-clocks in a day?” Stephen took it from her, and shoved it into the top of his fraying backpack.

“Very funny. It’s Noah’s party tonight, remember?” He sat heavily on top of the backpack as he tried to close the bulging zip. _You can never be too prepared right?_ He thought frantically, worried Noah would think he was all but moving in. _Even if it’s only one night?_ When he failed, his mom smiled and forced it shut with a well-practiced ease,

“How could I forget?” she said, lifting the bulging backpack onto the floor and sitting next to Stephen on his bed. “I know I’m not around much but it’s all you’ve spoken about for the last two weeks.” Stephen felt a hot blush spreading across his cheeks. _God, I hope I don’t talk about him that much, do I? _

“He’s a good friend, Mom,” he said, turning away and searching for the glow of Mustang headlights through the shabby window. His mom gently touched his forearm, kind and grounding.

“Okay, honey. I believe you.” She sounded sincere, but Stephen couldn’t tear his eyes away from the window to meet hers. “But I just want you to know you can tell me anything, okay?”

He had to look at her then, his flushed cheeks refusing to fade. He had no poker face and he knew it, so he resigned himself to nodding mutely, refusing to surrender any more information that wasn’t written across his face. He wasn’t sure how he’d even begin to articulate it. _Am I gay? Bi? I mean girls are nice, but Noah’s nicer?_ And he wasn’t sure how his father would react either. _Sorry Dad, I know how you like to laugh at ‘the homos’ on TV but guess what?_ Maybe his mother would talk him round.

Stephen knew from an early age he’d inherited the Spigman line’s genetics: shorter than five foot six, check; big-boned and strong, check; unruly dark hair and dark eyes to match, check and check. But he hoped he’d inherited his mother’s disposition. She was so gentle, so kind to everyone around her. So what if she spread herself a little too thin sometimes? Nothing fazed her. He opened his mouth, words ready to tumble out, unrehearsed.

_You’re getting ahead of yourself. Think about Lily._

He clamped his mouth shut. From outside came the steady hum of a car pulling into the yard, the bright strobe of headlights.

“I’d better go,” Stephen spluttered out, marking a pause in a conversation waiting to be resumed later. He threw his backpack onto his shoulder and kissed his mom on the cheek.  The leaden weight of fear in his chest seemed to lift just a little. “Have a good day at work!”

“I will,” she said, smiling. “And say hi to Noah for me!”

*

Noah was standing on the front porch, hand raised ready to knock when Stephen flung it open. He looked even more disheveled than usual, with dark bags under his eyes, but grinning wide nonetheless.

“Good morning,” he said quietly as he rubbed the sleep from one eye. Stephen smiled back, amused at how out of it Noah seemed. He was surprised to see Whelk in the driver’s seat though, tapping his finger against his shiny Rolex impatiently.

“We won’t make it to Baltimore by noon if you don’t hurry the fuck up!” he hissed through the open window. Stephen felt the smile fall from his face almost instantly. He knew Whelk was coming, but he’d hoped interacting with him would be at an absolute minimum. Stephen eyed Noah for an explanation as he clambered into the back. Noah had barely closed the passenger door before Whelk sped the car round in a noisy semi-circle.

They sped out of the front yard with a squeal of tires and the stench of burning rubber. _How anti-social_ , he thought, hoping his parents didn’t think any less of Noah because of it. Noah looked over his shoulder, and pulled a withering face at Stephen. Stephen couldn’t really return the favor, as he was valiantly trying to keep his single slice of toast in his stomach.

Noah drove fast, sure, probably a little over the speed limit too, but Stephen knew he’d never felt unsafe when he was driving. Not even when they’d first met, and Noah was just an extremely talkative rich stranger with a flashy car, did Stephen ever think they were gonna end up in dead in a ditch. But Whelk drove like a man with absolutely nothing to lose and no desire to live beyond the next second of his life. Stephen had never seen the fields of Henrietta blur into nothing so quickly, and he didn’t have the desire to see it again.

And to add insult to injury, Whelk had fucking _horrible_ taste in music.

“Whelk, man, do we _have_ to listen to Eminem? I feel kinda pukey as it is,” Noah moaned from the passenger seat, reaching for the dial. Whelk slapped his hand away and cranked it up to an earsplitting volume.

“It’s lyrical genius, Czerny. I wouldn’t expect _you_ to understand.” If Stephen wasn’t already threatening to throw up all over the back of Whelk’s head with his shitty driving, he was sorely tempted to now just to spite him. Whelk had always been a bit of a jackass in Stephen’s mind, but at least he’d been elusive enough for Stephen to pretend he didn’t exist. His phone lit up with two incoming texts from Noah.

_soz abt whelk he wudnt let me take my car unles he drove :’(_

_but dw im driving afta Baltimore ;)_ _try 2 nap thru it XD_

After the second weirdly graphic song and third near-miss, Stephen decided to cut his losses and take Noah’s advice.

*

Stephen had never been to Baltimore before.

Hell, he’d never been out of Virginia before, so he was determined to soak up the sights. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he tried not to look too dazed as he clambered out of the car into a small grubby parking lot. Skyscrapers towered into the sky over them and he couldn’t help but stare, committing them to memory for his sketchbook later.

“Czerny, it’s like farmboy’s never seen a city before,” Whelk said with a sneer as he tossed the keys over to Noah. Noah smiled, but his eyes were hard as he caught them one-handed. Stephen tore his eyes away from the buildings to try and remember the last time he’d seen such an incongruous expression on Noah’s face.

“Don’t be an asshole, dude,” Noah said lightly, elbowing Whelk in the side with a little more vigor than a friendly shove. Stephen was grateful for the gesture, but he had to admit that Whelk was a little right. When he was a kid he’d been on vacation to Richmond, but he couldn’t really remember anything beyond the hordes of people. The ramshackle sprawl of Henrietta was all he’d ever really known and he hated that it showed.

“C’mon Stephen, you’ll love this place.” Noah draped his arm round Stephen’s shoulders and steered him towards the diner in front of them. “It’s like a lil tradition Whelk and I have every New Year’s.”

Daisy’s Diner was an all-American affair, complete with vinyl booths and bright neon signs. It reminded Stephen of a cleaner, brighter and slightly more upmarket version of Nino’s back home. They slid into a booth, Noah and Whelk shoulder-to-shoulder opposite Stephen, and pored over three laminate menus with big bright pictures.

“Ugh, I can’t believe you made me stop here again,” Whelk muttered, just a little too loud to be polite. He barely looked at the menu before ordering a black coffee and nothing else. “You know it’s never a good sign when the menus have pictures,” he added conspiratorially. The waitress had the good grace not to look offended, and Stephen hoped that between him and Noah they’d have enough to tip her really well.

“I’d like the mixed gelato please, and a strawberry milkshake,” Noah said with the practice ease of a regular order.  He handed over his menu with an award-winning smile, and Stephen realized that he’d been staring across the table for far too long instead of choosing his food. His stomach rumbled angrily, and he hoped that $3 worth of food was gonna get him to the Czerny house.

“Uh, I’d like a, um, slice of pecan pie, please? And a- and a banana milkshake too.” Stephen hated the way he sounded compared to Whelk and Noah, but pushed it down at the sight of Noah’s high-beam smile being directed straight at him.

“Good choice dude, the milkshakes here are _amazing_.” Whelk rolled his eyes, and fixed his icy blue stare across the table as the waitress walked away. Stephen felt his stomach sink at the prospect of an oncoming interrogation on a negligible of sleep.

“So Spigman,” Whelk said, spitting the consonants out as if the name were a bitter curse word. “Where are you going after graduation?” Stephen got the impression this was a standard Aglionby question, and he sorely wished he had a high-brow polished answer like Lily had, but instead he just glanced across at Noah helplessly.

“I, uh, I don’t know yet.” Whelk tutted and rolled his eyes and Stephen felt distinctly like he’d failed a test. Noah gave him a little encouraging smile and he suddenly felt compelled to keep talking. “But I know I wanna do architecture. I wanna... shape cities. Build things. Y’know?” He dared not look at Whelk again, even if the dismissive tutting was clearly audible, but Noah’s face lit up at that and Stephen couldn’t help but smile back. _At least he didn’t laugh_.

Noah looked about to say something, but the waitress interrupted them, placing the biggest milkshake and slice of pie Stephen had ever seen in front of him. All conversation was replaced by hungry munching and Noah making endless small talk. Any time Whelk opened his mouth to interrogate Stephen further, Stephen heard the not-so-surreptitious _thud_ of Whelk being kicked under the table.

The crumpled silver banner hanging across the window next to them read _Happy New Year!!_ and sipping his milkshake, meeting eyes with Noah across the table, Stephen felt a swell of excitement at the future.

*

As they pulled back onto the interstate, hunger sated and wide awake, Stephen found himself openly laughing as Noah slapped Whelk’s hand away from the stereo dial.

“Nuh-uh Barry, driver picks the music. I know how much you love songs about treating women like steaming piles of garbage but also I don’t care.” Whelk frowned as if Noah hadn’t just offended him but also dishonored the entire Whelk family tree. Stephen couldn’t really feel sorry for him. In response, Noah cranked up the stereo and began to sing loudly and off-key to the opening of _Camisado._ Stephen grinned wide, joining in at a similar volume for the chorus, drowning out Whelk’s loud sarcastic protests. The wind from the open windows buffed their faces and mussed their hair as the cherry-red Mustang tore down the highway.

Watching Noah in profile, hair golden in the midday sun, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel and singing his heart out, Stephen swore he’d never felt so alive.

*

By the time they’d reached the Pennsylvania border, Noah and Stephen had sung their way through the whole of _A Fever You Can’t Sweat Out_ and had made a decent start on _Deja Entendu._ Whelk looked like he was rapidly losing the will to live, and Stephen couldn’t help but feel incredibly smug.

A creeping tightness began to grow in Stephen’s chest, however, as they pulled off the interstate. Suddenly, raucous singing didn’t seem appealing any more. Noah turned the stereo down and began talking at length about the party that evening.

“ –so I mean, I invited the rest of the gang but Jenny and Inez always have a big party cus Jenny’s in with the cheer squad and Delgarno always spends it with his grandma – but like don’t tell him I told you that cus he’d kick my ass – so this is mostly gonna be Aglionby boys and Hannah and Adele’s friends but that’s okay, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Stephen mumbled, meeting Noah’s eyes in the rearview mirror. Stephen reckoned he was getting better at determining Noah’s rampant enthusiasm apart from his occasional bout of jittery nerves and, going by the speed he was talking, this was definitely the latter. Stephen had to admit it made him feel a bit better about his own anxiety and forced himself to stay calm. _Noah’s not just any Aglionby boy. So his family will be the same, right?_

His fear was not allayed any as they pulled up to the Czerny family house. House was definitely an understatement though, for directly in front of them was a gorgeous Georgian mansion, with gleaming white walls flanked by perfectly manicured box hedges. Whelk looked thoroughly fed up as they drew to a halt, disinterested by a house that probably paled in comparison to the sprawl of his family estate. Stephen could tell Noah looked pleased though, relieved to be back even if it was only for a night. He could feel that same disheartened twist in his gut he’d felt after meeting Lily; the sudden wave of inadequacy hitting him as he was again forced to acknowledge they’d never really be equals.

In the rearview, Stephen saw the flicker of an apology cross Noah’s face as their eyes met in the rearview mirror. He’d never say it out loud, especially not with Whelk in the car, but Stephen could tell Noah knew how he felt. The thought buoyed him a little as the three of them clambered out, overnight bags in hand, onto the gravel.

“Your parking skills get shittier by the day,” Whelk pointed out, gesturing to the way the car was parked diagonally across the drive, front half on the lawn. Stephen tried to force down his laughter but couldn’t help a spluttery giggle.

“Meh, they’re used to it.” Noah shrugged and let himself into the house. It was as gleamingly beautiful inside as it was out, but Stephen was relieved to note that it at least looked lived in. He’d dreaded the idea of a house like a museum, all cold marble and priceless ornaments.

“Helloooooo? Anybody home?” Noah called out, his voice echoing through the house.

“Oh my God, _Noah_!” came a shriek from above, before a tiny blonde girl jumped down the stairs three at a time and straight into Noah’s arms. He dropped the sports bag he’d been carrying and picked her up, spinning her round and round. She could only have been ten at most, and looked just like Noah, right down to the mass of freckles across her cheeks.

“Adele, you already know Whelk.” She squinted up at him and nodded, frowning. “Well, this is my other friend, Stephen.” Stephen smiled as she held a hand out in front of her, surprisingly business-like for such a small child.

“Nice to meet you, Adele,” he said, shaking her hand, and that was enough to elicit another big toothy grin.

Stephen decided that he’d made the right call about the Czernys, and mentally scolded himself for ever worrying. Noah’s other sister, Hannah, had made a brief appearance before skulking off to the kitchen to help with dinner. She was polite enough, greeting Noah with a tight hug and Stephen and Whelk with a brusque nod each. She was clearly the awkward middle child of the Czernys, fourteen and only a little rebellious, blonde hair cropped close and eye makeup dark. Stephen could tell Whelk thought she was unpleasant, but he reckoned her reticence was shyness over rudeness.

Dinner had been a mostly relaxed affair. Between them, Noah and Hannah could really cook, and the Czernys were pleasantly restrained in what they asked Stephen. He learned a lot about Mr and Mrs Czerny too, and Stephen was happy to let them talk about themselves in lieu of answering a barrage of prying family questions. Mr Czerny had been a first-generation immigrant from Poland who’d made it big developing electronics and just so happened to team up with a rival company where the future-Mrs-Czerny worked. They smiled at each other with misty eyes and held hands while they told the story, and even though Noah and Adele were making not-so-subtle puke faces at each other across the table, Stephen found it really quite sweet. He wondered if he’d ever look at someone with that dewy-eyed expression, in a nice house with three kids.

All in all, he enjoyed the meal, apart from Whelk. Stephen reckoned that the slick-talking jackass must have jonesing for attention because he seemed hell-bent on casually pointing out every social faux pas Stephen made at the table. “I mean, we honestly don’t care what fork you use; hell, I don’t even know why we have so many,” Noah had told him afterwards, but Stephen still felt two inches tall. He quietly retired to the guest bedroom to get changed and wait for the embarrassment to subside.

*

After a half-hour or so, there was a knock at the door. Trying to finish up buttoning his dress shirt, Stephen dragged open the door and froze when he saw Noah in front of him, leaning against the doorframe.

There he was, black eyeliner smudged round his eyes, in tight black skinny jeans and a navy-and-white Aglionby varsity jacket. Stephen could see the swim team logo on his left arm, and he tried very hard not to imagine Noah in the pool. He failed miserably.

“Guess what _I’ve_ got?” he said with a smile, waving a little tub of something shiny in front of Stephen’s face. He squinted at it, trying to figure out what it was but shrugging as he came up blank. “Glitter, dude, this is the _shit_.” He strode in, heading straight to the bathroom mirror, completely ignorant of Stephen frantically trying to finger-comb his hair.

“Is that eyeshadow?” Stephen asked, peering around Noah as he wrenched open the tub to reveal a sparkly powder.

“Shhh, dude, Hannah’s not even gonna know it’s gone.” Noah dipped an index finger in the tub then swiped it across his left cheekbone, a streak of silver war-paint.  As he did the other side, Stephen felt his heart pounding in his ears.

“Want some?” Stephen was shook from his stupor by Noah waving the tub in front of his eyes. Make-up had never been the sort of thing he’d considered wearing, but Noah managed to make it look so _good._

“Sure, why not?” he said with a shrug. The swipe of Noah’s warm fingers against Stephen’s cheeks sent lightning across his skin. Noah seemed a big fan of casual touches, but the shoulder-slaps and elbowing didn’t really match up to this. This seemed more deliberate, more intimate. As Noah stood back and admired both their faces in the wide expanse of the mirror, Stephen quietly out a shaky breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

*

“What the _fuck_ is that on your faces?” Whelk said when they went downstairs, but Stephen was forcing himself to tune him out for the duration of the evening and Noah happily flipped him the bird with both hands. Thankfully, the house was already filling up fast with guests, the odd vaguely-familiar Aglionby face but mostly people Stephen didn’t know. Mr and Mrs Czerny seemed right at home navigating the sea of varsity jackets and tweed blazers, offering drinks while asking about vastly extended families and prestigious summer internships.

Noah disappeared into the flurry of people, and Stephen found himself sitting in the living room bay window, making absent-minded small talk with Hannah. Noah would surface every now and again, wandering over and threatening to introduce Stephen to some more faceless Aglionby boys, but after the third conversation that took the turn of ‘ _what_? You don’t even _drive?’_ Stephen had to politely decline.

He found himself staring across the room, clutching his lemonade tightly as Noah wound his arm around Lily’s waist, pulling her towards him as they made polite small talk with her friends. Stephen couldn’t help but imagine the two of them in ten years time, twenty-seven and married, with a house like this. As much as he tried to suppress it, jealousy rose in his throat like bile and he couldn’t force it away.  

As the night wore on, the party seemed to dissolve from polite catch-ups and friendly chortling into typical teenaged messiness. Noah’s parents seemed to become less and less visible, and Stephen honestly couldn’t blame them. At some point, a burly guy with a buzzcut opened a beer with his teeth and thrust it into Stephen’s hands before disappearing into the throng once more. A good quarter of it spilled onto the plush cream carpet and Stephen sighed as he wandered through to the kitchen for a towel.

He could count the number of house parties he’d been to on one hand, and hadn’t been to a single one yet that hadn’t ended in boozy mayhem. He wasn’t really one for drinking, the odd glass of wine if his parents were trying to be fancy, sure, but he was slowly losing the will to live watching some of the more repulsive Aglionby dudes grind on Lily’s unsuspecting friends, and far too much vomit for one person’s lifetime. He chugged the remainder of the beer in the bottle as fast as he could, grimacing at how shitty it tasted.

Sometime after half-eleven, Stephen decided he was gonna bail and watch the New Year’s fireworks from his bedroom window. With a sinking heart, he realized he hadn’t seen Noah in quite some time. _Probably off somewhere with Lily,_ he thought sullenly, trudging up the stairs, stepping past at least two barely-conscious people who were being tended to by their friends.

As he neared his bedroom however, his heart sank even further. The upstairs was relatively quiet compared to the _thud-thud_ of music and loud hubbub of people downstairs, but Stephen could hear a very distinctive noise coming from one of the bedrooms in the corridor he was standing in. Distinct from the music downstairs, this was the _thud-thud_ of a headboard against a wall. Stephen sighed again, desperately praying that it wasn’t Noah and Lily he was being forced to listen to. The sound echoed around him, and he couldn’t quite tell which room it was coming from. _It’s probably Noah’s_ , Stephen thought, reaching his door. _Or Whelk’s. Fuck that guy._

Unfortunately for Stephen, when he opened the door to his room, the source of the thudding soon revealed itself. No sooner than he’d looked in did he close the door and walk briskly along the corridor, praying that the couple inside hadn’t seen him. The thudding stopped momentarily, and Stephen stood frozen in the middle of the corridor, before it started up again. He couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief, but he was still disturbed by what he’d just seen. In his guest room, in what was meant to be his bed, _like couldn’t they have picked anywhere else but there?_ But it wasn’t the _what_ that disturbed him most, it was the _who._

Even in the dim light, Stephen could recognize the faces of the two people in his room. It took him a minute to process it; his mind was hell-bent on erasing the whole thing from his memory. But the image of the two of them seemed burned onto his retinas every time he closed his eyes and it made him want to throw up.

Lily and Whelk.

*

Stephen threw himself into the room nearest where he was standing, fighting back the nausea. The _thud-thud_ coming from Stephen’s room faded as soon as he closed the door behind him. _What the fuck do I do? Do I tell Noah? Does he already know?_ Unfortunately for Stephen, he had just ruined his chance to organize his thoughts coherently as the room he’d burst into was already occupied.

Noah sat cross-legged on his bed, dimly lit by the moonlight, staring off unfocused into the gloom. He said nothing, but held out the large clear bottle he’d just slugged from. Stephen took in the room around him, the tattered wall-to-wall posters torn from back-copies of Kerrang, the swim trophies arranged proudly on a set of dusty shelves. Of course this was Noah’s room; he couldn’t doubt it for a second.

“Hey dude,” Stephen said, hoping the little wobble in his voice didn’t betray him. “Are you okay?”

 “Peach schnapps,” Noah replied proudly, clearly dodging the question and only just slurring on the ‘s’. “Fresh from Mom’s cabinet.” He patted the bedspread next to him and Stephen perched on the edge of the bed, a little closer to Noah than he’d intended. “Want some?”

 _When in Rome,_ Stephen thought, trying to block out the thought of Whelk’s naked ass a few rooms over. He took a large swig, only choking a little bit. _An indirect kiss_ , he thought vaguely, the beer from earlier turning his thoughts a little hazy. He was so close Stephen could smell the liquor on Noah’s breath.

“Not bad,” he said, once he’d finished coughing. Noah’s slightly vacant expression shifted away almost immediately and he smiled that high-beam smile as he bounced up and down cross-legged on the bed. It didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Don’t you wanna get back to the party?” Stephen said, checking his watch. _Five minutes to midnight._ “It’s your house after all. I think Jameson barfed in one of your mom’s vases.” _Deflection, deflection. Does he know what’s happening three doors down?_ Noah wrinkled his nose at that and took another swig from the schnapps.

“I wanna tell you something first.” Stephen furrowed his brow. Noah was swaying where he sat, and Stephen wasn’t entirely sure where this was going. _He knows. Lily’s cheating on him with his best friend and he fucking knows._ The bottle nearly tipped straight out of Noah’s hands, so Stephen took it from him and nursed it in his lap.

“What’s up?” Stephen turned to face Noah, trying to gauge from his expression what he was going to say. Even though he was completely wasted, his eyes were clear and lucid. In the garden down below crowds gathered in preparation for the fireworks. _I need to tell him about it, if he doesn’t know._

“From the minute I saw you walking outta town, pushing that hunk-o-crap bike, god I love that bike, did I mention how much I love that bike of yours?” He waved a hand in front of him, as if to dispel the train of thought he was currently hurtling along. “Anyway, from the minute I saw you I thought you looked like a good dude. A nice dude. And then you completely faceplanted off your bike and we chatted and I was right.  And since we met I, like, dunno.” Stephen couldn’t quite process what was happening in front of him. The conversation was unfolding in front of him, but it didn’t match up to the script Stephen had planned in his mind. _Three minutes to midnight_.

Noah took a deep breath, steadying himself. “I really like you Stephen.”

“Yeah, I like you too, dude,” Stephen said, pushing down the butterflies which had sprung up with new vigor, not willing himself to think too much into the ramblings of a drunk seventeen year old. Noah shook his head so furiously, Stephen worried he’d hurt himself.

“No, _no_ , Stephen you don’t _get_ it, I _like_ you okay?” Stephen searched for any hint of a joke in Noah’s eyes, any suggestion that this was all a sick prank. But Noah looked as sincere as ever, stricken at Stephen’s silence. _One minute to midnight._

“Noah,” was all Stephen could manage. He leaned down, to put the nearly-empty bottle on the floor. Noah looked ready to brush it off, to leap up and pretend it never happened. _You need to tell him. You need to fucking tell him what you just saw._

But as he met Noah’s eyes, Stephen found himself smiling, all thoughts of Lily and Whelk forgotten. He took both of Noah’s hands. They were warm, sweaty with nerves. Words often failed him; he never could find the right thing to say. But he didn’t need words, not now.

From outside there came a loud cheer as the first rocket burst in the sky, streaks of bright light marking the start of a new year. It lit up both their faces in the darkness, and Stephen could see the relief in Noah’s eyes. His heart thudded loudly in his ears once more.

“Happy new year,” Stephen said quietly, smiling softly.

With warm sticky-sweet lips, Noah leaned in and kissed him.


	5. january

_Hey, what’s up, haven’t seen you in a while?_

_soz been busy_

_*_

_Joined the circus yet?_

_lol wrkin on it_

_*_

_Want to hang out after school?_

_cant soz out with whelk_

*

The replies came slowly, and Stephen couldn’t help but feel a strange pang of guilt every time he thought about the last time he’d seen Noah. New Year’s stuck in his mind like the blurry fragments of a fever dream: the sugary sweetness of a banana milkshake; the loud tuneless singing; the smudges of glitter on their cheeks. And Noah’s lips on his, warm and gentle and insistent.  

He couldn’t help but wonder what Noah thought about that night, what he’d even remembered. Stephen had woken with a pounding headache, a vague nausea and a heavy weight resting on his chest. In his hazy stupor it had taken him far too long to notice that the weight was more than just metaphorical, for Noah was snoring gently beside him, cradling the empty peach schnapps bottle with one arm, and the other splayed across Stephen.

Shaking off the warm glow of sleep, Stephen had been struck with the paralyzing fear that something had happened between the two of them, that the kissing had escalated into something more and he couldn’t remember it. _Oh God, what have I done?_  

He’d lain there frozen, forcing himself to focus on the fact he was still fully clothed and so was Noah, dredging his memory for the events of the previous night. The spilt beer, Lily and Whelk, the peach schnapps, the kiss- 

Noah had stirred, moving his arm away, and Stephen had taken the opportunity to roll out of the bed to land, a little heavier than intended, on the floor. _Good one, Spigman_ , he’d thought, before wincing as he pushed down the wave of nausea he’d just elicited by moving so quickly.

 _Did Noah remember kissing me?_ Stephen thought. He remembered a glimpse of that crooked smile he’d grown to appreciate so much. Equal parts nervous and tipsy and proud. _Does he regret it now?_

Thinking about it transformed Stephen’s nervous hope into a sickening guilt. Noah loved Lily, he’d told Stephen as much when they’d first met, and Stephen could tell from the way he acted, the way he looked at her. And Stephen had come along and ruined it all, nothing but a greedy, selfish homewrecker. _I mean, if anyone’s the homewrecker here, it’s Whelk,_ the slightly more rational part of his mind supplied, but he still couldn’t help but feel like shit.

The journey home had been nigh unbearable, all three of them with matching hangovers. Stephen couldn’t believe Whelk’s gall at sitting shotgun after everything that had happened and Noah drove the whole way back, slow and steady and silent, his expression thoroughly inscrutable.

*

To make matters worse, Noah had been pretty much avoiding him ever since. Late January heralded the return of classes and Stephen hadn’t seen Noah or Whelk at all since their awkward roadtrip home.

 “I’ve gotta put this right,” Stephen told his pinched, anxious expression in the bathroom mirror one morning, forcing himself to summon up the courage to talk to Noah. _I’ve gotta apologise, this whole thing was a big fucking mistake._

He dragged his bike out of the shed, forcing back the memory of what Noah had said about it, and nearly fell on his ass only twice on the deceptive black ice. The snow was falling in a light haze, dusting Stephen’s hair and shoulders as he pulled his phone out. He rarely, if ever, called Noah but texting wasn’t any use right now. He pressed the phone to his ear. Straight to voicemail.

_You’ve reached Noah Czerny, skater extraordinaire-_

Stephen pressed the End Call button before he could hear the rest of the message; Noah was never far, and the nervous tremor in his hands told him not to waste any more time.

*

Stephen’s first port of call was the skatepark. The snow was still only light, so he wasn’t surprised to see the huddle of figures underneath the big ramp, the odd tendril of smoke emanating from the sides. Stephen leant his bike against the lamppost as he’d done all those months ago, and tried to untangle the thoughts in his mind as he drew closer. But as he looked, his little rehearsed speech in his mind would have to wait; the only people there were Jenny, Inez and Delgarno.

“Hey Spigman,” Jenny said, hanging upside down from one of the bars at the side, face flushed red. “Looking for Czerny?” Stephen stuttered a little and nodded. _Did they know what happened? Do they know what I did?_

“Try the Aglionby art building,” Inez said, looking up from yet another textbook, this one with a shiny red cover. “If he’s not here, that’s where he’ll be. Just go to reception and ask.” The thought of going into the ground of Aglionby on his bike with the bent spokes that rattled, in his jacket with the torn-up elbows made his stomach squirm unpleasantly. _You gotta do it. You gotta face up to this._

“Thanks guys,” Stephen said, re-rehearsing the speech in his head to include talking to the Aglionby receptionist. “Sorry I can’t stick around, I gotta go.” He hoped he didn’t sound too transparent, and promised vaguely that he’d be back when he was done. Inez still gave him the same look that she’d given him back when they’d first met, the one that he’d not understood at the time but confirmed all Stephen’s fears about his lack of subtlety.

The snow began to fall thick and fast from the darkening sky as Stephen trudged through the slush back to his bike. _No Whelk, no Noah._

*

Stephen had never been this close to Aglionby Academy before, and he had to admit up-close it was an astonishing array of buildings. Getting onto the campus itself had seemed a bit of a daunting task, but after Jameson had yelled ‘Glitterman’ at him on approach, he’d managed to tailgate in. _Well, at least that’s something._ Staring at the huge expanse of red brick, white stone and huge arched entrances, all Stephen wanted to sit on the front lawn and record the whole thing for posterity in his sketchbook. _C’mon man, focus._ Thankfully, for such a sprawling set of buildings, the reception building was fairly obvious, grandiose and central.

Unfortunately, getting into the body of Aglionby itself wasn’t so easy. The perfectly polished receptionist with his expensive-looking shirt and tie tapping away at his keyboard made what was left of Stephen’s bravado threaten to disappear altogether.

“And you are?” He’d asked, smiling wide, momentarily dragging his eyes up and down Stephen’s disheveled appearance before looking back at the screen. Stephen forced himself to stand his ground; he was fast learning to tune out those little things, the little tics intended to remind him where he didn’t belong.

“Stephen Spigman. I’m here to visit Noah Czerny.” He fought to keep his accent neutral but he never could keep those Henrietta vowels from slipping out. The receptionist frowned with suspicion before picking up the phone, not taking his eyes off Stephen.

“Czerny. There’s a kid at the front desk to see you. Spigman, Stephen. No, you need to come d-Czern- Okay, _fine_.” The receptionist sighed, scribbled something down onto a piece of paper and handed Stephen a navy lanyard with a plastic badge on it.

“He’s in the art department, top floor,” he said, disinterestedly, pointing vaguely to the left of Stephen before looking back at the computer screen again.

“Thank you,” Stephen said, heading straight for the lifts. He felt light-headed, buoyed by the total relief washing over him at having found Noah, and he wasn’t entirely sure why.

*

By the time he reached the art department on the top floor, however, Stephen’s could feel the panicked throb of his heartbeat in his ears. A constant rushed tattoo, part from the bike ride over, part relief, part exhilaration. Mostly, Stephen suspected, it was petrifying anxiety at the idea of looking Noah in the eye after what had happened.

But as Stephen pushed open the door, all of his concerns seemed to fade away.

It was as if he was seeing Noah for the first time all over again. Hazy winter sun poured in through the windows, casting a golden glow across the room, shafts of light broken intermittently by the steady fall of thick fluffy snowflakes. Noah sat hunched over the table, chewing absently on his bottom lip as his hands stroked dark sweeps of charcoal deftly over the paper. Loud tinny music floated across the room from his headphones; _Black Parade, good choice,_ Stephen thought with a smile.

“Hey, Noah?” Stephen called out, quieter than he’d been aiming for. Noah looked so calm, so peaceful; something in Stephen felt shameful for taking it away.

The light struck golden through Noah’s finger-tangled hair, matching the way his eyes gleamed as he saw Stephen standing awkwardly in the doorway. The room was an open plan spread of scarred drawing benches, impeccable still life paintings, and huge windows overlooking the Henrietta’s rolling farmland. The glass in the windowpanes rattled with every gust of wind.

Stephen knew he liked Noah; he liked his shitty sense of humor, his good taste in music, his gentle kindness for everyone and everything. But Stephen never realized how much he loved the way Noah _looked_ , the way he _moved_. He’d come all this way to put an end to this, to tell Noah that this had been nothing but an unfortunate mistake. But seeing Noah like this, he could only think of the way they’d looked at each other over those milkshakes, and the way they’d looked at each other before they kissed.

Noah smiled gently as he pulled out his headphones.

“Hey, Stephen,” he said, gesturing for Stephen to take the stool next to where he was perched. Close up, Stephen could see the messy smudges of charcoal up Noah’s arms and on his face, the rumpled state of his Aglionby uniform. Noah looked at Stephen inquisitively, patiently, but Stephen felt as if his throat had swelled shut. Noah was so beautiful sat there in front of him; he didn’t have the heart to destroy the possibility of something between them.

The silence stretched between them, awkward and uncharacteristic.

“Do you wanna see what I’m making?” Noah said politely as Stephen wracked his brain for any semblance of the speech he’d rehearsed on the way over. He nodded mutely, cursing himself, as Noah pushed over several large sheets of paper covered with huge birds made from charcoal, glitter and jet-black feathers. They looked altogether lifelike and terrifyingly surreal with huge hooked beaks and piercing eyes.

“Ravens.”

“Not just any ravens,” Noah said with a proud smile as he took a charcoal pencil and added another swipe to the largest bird’s beak. “These are Raven Day Ravens. Aglionby Ravens.” Stephen thought of the black crest on impeccable navy sweaters and the scrutinizing look in Whelk’s eye, and tried to equate it with the rumpled kind-hearted boy in front of him.

Stephen wracked his brain for what he remembered about Raven Day. All he knew was it was some kind of school spirit day, held on April Fool’s to keep the Aglionby boys out of trouble. Noah seemed to sense the gaps in Stephen’s knowledge, and didn’t hesitate to fill them in.

“It was my idea, y’know. Raven Day.” He sounded so incredibly proud of himself, Stephen couldn’t help but feel a swelling of pride for him too. “I had this really weird dream. Filled with all these ravens, all different sizes and shapes, swooping and diving and circling. Kind of like they were attacking me but I couldn’t feel them? Or like I was one of them, y’know?” Stephen couldn’t help but stare fixatedly on Noah’s hands, the way they swooped and dived excitedly with his story. “And when I woke up, I told Adele I wanted to make them into art and she told me that if everyone at Aglionby did it, my dream would come true.” He paused, smiling distantly as he recalled his dream. “And it did.”

Stephen looked at the drawings in front of him again, the care and attention Noah paid to them. He thought of his own sketchbook scribblings, the skylines of all the cities he’d never been to, and wondered if one day his dream might come true too.

“They’re beautiful,” Stephen said, tearing his eyes away to meet Noah’s. In response, Noah smiled even wider, and Stephen was struck with the same tightness in his chest he’d harbored all the way to Pennsylvania in December. It was as if nothing had changed between them; they were same close friends as they’d been since that one fateful meeting in September. And yet, everything had changed.

A polite lull in conversation followed their talk of ravens, and it was a lull Stephen knew it was his turn to fill.

 “I- um.” Noah sat expectantly, hands folded in his lap as Stephen frowned at his own inarticulacy. “We- we need to talk.”

Noah’s expression was calm and measured as he nodded, and Stephen would have thought him entirely disinterested if it wasn’t for the constant motion of his foot tapping against the metal frame of the stool. Such a nervous fluttery gesture betrayed him entirely, and as Stephen opened his mouth to apologize for everything, Noah cut him off.

“I know about Lily,” he said with a sad smile, running his fingers through his hair. “And Whelk.” Stephen furrowed his brow in confusion. “It’s been going on for a while now, but neither of them knows that I know.”

Stephen had never heard Noah so quiet, so serious. Even when he wasn’t a constant flurry of activity, he always seemed so happy and naïve and carefree. This Noah was still smiling, but his eyes were sad and solemn.

“It’s over. Lily and I are over.” There was a slight pause as Noah looked off into the distance sadly, trying to figure out what to say next. Stephen sat frozen, his perfectly formed rejection speech crumbling before his eyes.

“But I just wanted to say, I don’t regret it at all.” He paused again, clearly trying to gauge Stephen’s expression.  “But if you do, I mean, that’s-”

This time it was Stephen’s turn to cut him off. “No, no, I don’t either! I thought- I did- I didn’t want to- to ruin things with you and Lily.” He cursed the way he sounded, the stuttering and the shyness, but he knew it was now or never. “I just thought you were ignoring me because it never should have happened. Because you regretted it.”

Noah looked away as he rubbed a hand at the back of his neck sheepishly, leaving another dark charcoal smudge behind.

“I’m sorry for blanking you like that, Stephen. I just- I needed some time to just sit down and think about what it was that I wanted.” On the last word he met Stephen’s eyes.

“And?” Stephen quietly asked after a moment, not wanting to tempt fate for even a second. Noah looked at him as if he’d just asked the stupidest question in the world. He reached out with one charcoal-smeared hand and placed it on Stephen’s cheek, leaning in closer.

“I knew it was you.” Noah was so close Stephen could count every freckle smattered across his nose. Stephen couldn’t believe what he was hearing, what he was seeing. New Year’s he could blame on the liquor, but here was Noah Czerny, stone-cold sober, admitting _this_. Stephen felt a hot blush blaze across his cheeks, but he didn’t even care.

“Can I kiss you, Stephen Spigman?”

His voice was quiet and low, steady and reverential. He was so close Stephen could feel the heat of his breath, the mint of hastily-chewed gum.

“Yes,” Stephen breathed, and their lips met. Stephen thought of everything that had brought them to this moment. That first lift home, that offer of help at the skatepark, that party two states over. Stephen thought of Noah’s dreams of ravens and felt he was in a dream himself, one he never wanted to wake up from.

*

The late afternoon sun melted into the pitch-dark of winter night as they sat together in the art department.

“I can drive you home, if you like,” Noah murmured, as they gazed out across the impenetrable darkness of rural Henrietta. The tiny glow of lights belonging to the Spigman farm sat flickering on the horizon.

“That’d be awesome, thanks.” Stephen plucked up the courage to take Noah’s hand and laced their fingers together. He could see a pink blush rise across Noah’s cheeks and he couldn’t help but smile at the corresponding fluttering in his chest. The silence that stretched between them was no longer awkward; it was an amicable peace, one that didn’t need to be filled.

As they made their way to Noah’s Mustang, this time curbed outside the history building, Noah turned to look at Stephen, his expression apprehensive as they dropped hands. Stephen felt his stomach sink as he turned over all the possibilities.

“This- what’s going on between us.” Noah looked vaguely terrified and Stephen just wanted to give him a hug, to give Noah the same kind words Inez had given him. “I don’t want us to be a secret. Not unless you do?” Stephen shook his head. He’d reached that point in his time in Henrietta where he couldn’t care any less about what people thought or said about him.

“But can we not tell Whelk right away?” Stephen couldn’t help but feel a little confused. He was still beyond furious at Whelk for betraying Noah. “I just don’t want him to ruin this.” _Like he ruins everything else._ Stephen had never heard him sound so painfully sincere and, even though he wanted to shout how he felt about Noah from the rooftops, he nodded.

“Sure. That’s fine by me.” He plucked up the courage to stand on tiptoe and kiss Noah’s cheek before climbing into the car. Noah flushed bright red, barely visible by the glow of streetlamps overhead, and clambered into the driver’s seat. The road out of Henrietta stretched ahead of them, lit by the twin beams of Mustang headlights, and Stephen’s heart swelled at the idea of their future together, as intangible and unknowable as the night.


	6. february

Valentine’s Day crept up on them in a haze of snow and studying. Stephen couldn’t tell whether it was the warm glow of a new relationship thrumming in his veins or the Henrietta frost coating everything with a glittery sheen, but the town seemed that much better than it ever had before.

Stephen’s second trip onto the Aglionby campus was nearly as daunting as the first. The wrought-iron gates loomed overhead as he haphazardly pushed his bike along the sheet ice, each step filled with the quiet determination of someone desperately trying not to fall on their ass. Even though they’d planned this Valentine’s Day study session for weeks now, Stephen still couldn’t help but worry that he’d got the time wrong or Noah had forgotten, or the whole thing, relationship and all, was actually just a surreal stress dream.

Just as his frantic worry reached a nauseating climax, the small pedestrian gate swung inwards with a rusty squeal. All fear melted away when he caught sight of Noah bundled up in a patterned hat/scarf/gloves combination so bright it almost made his eyes hurt. Almost slipping and falling himself, Noah ran over and hugged Stephen tightly, causing the bike to clatter to the ground.

“Man, I’ve missed you,” he mumbled into Stephen's shoulder. Stephen could feel a hot blush spreading up his cheeks and couldn’t help but smile.

“Me too.” He pressed his face tightly into Noah's jacket. Noah looked down, pecked him on the cheek so quickly Stephen thought he’d imagined it, and directed him towards the bike racks behind Borden House.

“Do you like my fine winterwear ensemble?” Noah asked, posing dramatically as Stephen knelt and fumbled with the bike-lock. He looked Noah up and down, taking in the dark wool coat along with the fluorescent pink and orange hat, red and black striped scarf and the luminous green fingerless gloves.

“It’s a strong look,” Stephen replied with a smile as he rattled the bike to make sure it was secure. Noah wiggled his bare fingers at him; Stephen could see holes where stitches had been dropped and the wool was fraying around the ends.

“Hannah made me the hat and scarf.”  He took Stephen’s hand and guided them towards the large sprawling dorm block across campus. “She said I looked less emo and more boring establishment figure when everything matched. Plus, everyone in Aglionby basically looks the same so I had to mix it up _somehow_. And Adele made me the gloves.” Stephen could tell Noah was getting excited; he was talking far too fast. But Stephen had to admit this giddiness was more than a little contagious. Even though they had only planned to study, just being with Noah in any capacity gave him a real buzz.

“She swears she meant to make them fingerless but she’s always getting ahead of herself, she probably forgot that you do the fingers _first_ \- oh we’re here.” Noah dropped Stephen’s hand as he frantically patted down his pockets for his dorm key.

“Are you sure this is okay?” Stephen asked, looking not-so-surreptitiously up and down the corridor for Whelk. Noah produced a large shiny key from an inside pocket like he’d just made a groundbreaking discovery and grinned and nodded, the tip of his nose glowing red from the outdoors. “Barry’s off at a fencing tournament, it’s _just us_.” Noah’s sing-song suggestive tone was completely ridiculous, and Stephen couldn’t help but let out a chuckle, elbowing Noah in the ribs as they stumbled into the room together.

*

Stephen wasn’t sure what to expect from Noah and Whelk’s shared dorm room, but honestly any predictions he might have made would have been completely correct. Literally the only thing which would have made the distinction between the two halves clearer would be if Whelk had taped off his side and going by the state of his side of the room, Stephen wouldn’t have been surprised.

Whelk's side of the room was meticulously tidy, exactly what he would have expected from the type of guy who wore a button-down and polished shoes to a skatepark. Prospectuses for Harvard and Yale sat proudly on his desk, folded open at the pages for pre-law, almost as if he knew someone was coming over. There was barely a personal belonging to be seen, no posters or any photographs of loved ones. Just an enormous map of Aglionby and the surrounding area, tattered and worn, pinned to the wall over his bed.

It was incongruous against the stark whiteness of the walls, and covered with all colors of post-it notes filled with two types of handwriting: Whelk’s elegant black fountain pen cursive, and Noah’s unintelligible red biro scrawl. The notes were so crabbed and small, Stephen couldn’t get close enough to read them, but his overwhelming distrust of Whelk acted almost like a physical repellent, and Stephen turned away.

Noah's side on the other hand looked like a messier version of his room back in Pennsylvania; an accurate example of a Kerrang magazine exploded across the walls and floor. Each wall felt so indescribably _Noah_ , with the white expanse covered top to bottom in faded posters of pop-punk bands and blurry polaroids of Noah and his friends and brightly-colored sketches of all shapes, sizes and subjects. The duvet hung half off the bed, the bin was overflowing with chocolate bar wrappers and alcohol bottles and the whole room carried the choking cloying scent of too much aftershave, which, in Noah’s defense, was almost certainly Whelk’s. However, Noah had clearly had the good grace to clear a space at his desk, and his laundry into a single pile, albeit in the middle of the room.

"Uh," Noah mumbled, rubbing a hand against the back of his neck sheepishly. "I'm sorry about the mess?" 

Stephen kind of liked it though. His own bedroom was in a state of perpetual clutter, borne from years of hoarding things ‘just in case’. Noah’s side of the room looked homely, lived-in, which left a lot to be said for Whelk.

Stephen settled into the room, laying his things out in the small desk space Noah had cleared, as Noah spread a stack of textbooks around himself on the half-made bed. He enjoyed studying with Noah; he was a good sounding board for any questions he’d thought were too stupid to ask otherwise, and he was a godsend for helping with math. For the first time in four years, he was no longer failing.

The only drawback to studying in Noah’s dorm room as opposed to the Henrietta Public Library was just how cold it was. Where the library had radiators doing their best impression of Death Valley, Noah’s room had lattice windows that, although pretty, rattled and leaked and let in every draft. After the third gust of wind had sent Stephen’s papers flying across the room, Noah seemed to notice how Stephen was shivering in his threadbare knitted jumper. He leaned off his bed in the direction of his massive laundry pile, exposing a strip of pale skin where his own wooly jumper had rucked up. Stephen couldn’t help but steal a glance, mostly just wondering how cold Noah was, really, honestly, before a balled-up cream and navy jumper soared towards his head.

“Try that on,” Noah said, tugging a hand through his hair, faux-nonchalant. “It’s clean, I’ve only worn it once.” Stephen noticed it had ‘Czerny’ printed on the back in huge dark letters, with the Aglionby swim team logo on the front, as he pulled it over the jumper he was already wearing. He knew Noah was taller than him, but this jumper was so big he could have fit into it twice.

“Thanks, Noah,” Stephen said, leaning over from his chair by the desk to kiss Noah gently but decisively. The jumper was soft and warm, just like Noah, and it smelt of the same nice aftershave he’d noticed when he’d first climbed into Noah’s Mustang that stormy October afternoon. Not for the first time Stephen couldn’t help but think how lucky he was.

*

As much as Stephen tried to ignore it, the map on Whelk’s wall kept catching his eye, the one concrete sign that Noah and Whelk actually hung out as genuine friends. It filled him with a sickly kind of jealousy, mostly made up of Stephen’s utter confusion about how Noah and Whelk were even friends at all outside of being roommates. Eventually, curiosity got the better of him.

“What’s up with Whelk’s map?” Stephen asked, twirling his pencil. He squinted some more at the map’s huge sweeping red lines and black scribbled circles around tiny churchyards and patches of woodland, probably far less surreptitiously than he’d hoped.  He expected some half-assed shrug in response, maybe something about an old geography project, but there was something in Noah’s expression when he answered which gave him pause.

“Oh, it’s nothing,” Noah said very deliberately, barely glancing at the map before staring fixedly at his Latin textbook, despite doing very little before. Stephen was suddenly filled with the very distinct feeling of failing a very important test, and tried to focus on the algebra question in front of him instead. After a couple of minutes of trying to decipher the symbols swimming before his eyes, he decided to change tack.

“How did you meet Whelk?” Stephen asked, not looking up from his work. He had to admit this was something he’d wondered for quite a long time now, and thankfully, Noah seemed a bit more willing to chat about it. He let out a small nostalgic smile, tucking his pencil behind his ear, and leant back on his hands. One of the textbooks slid onto the floor, but Noah seemed hardly bothered.

“Lemme cast your mind back three years,” he said wistfully. Stephen leaned back in his seat too, tucking his hands into the long sleeves of Noah’s sweater. “I’m an Aglionby freshman, about as green as they come. All my clothes are way too big and I’ve got a fucking awful bowlcut, and I’m _completely_ shitting myself.”

Stephen couldn’t help but let out a spluttery laugh, all worry about Whelk forgotten.

“A bowlcut, man? I gotta see this.”

“In your dreams,” Noah chuckled, tossing a crumpled piece of paper in the vague area of Stephen’s head as he leaned back on the bed. “And my nightmares. Anyway, I’m two states away from my folks, not a single friend to speak of. I’ve not even gotten to my room yet, when some asshole tries to slam-dunk my backpack, with me attached to it might I add, into a trashcan.” Noah’s tone is flippant, but Stephen can see something hard in his eyes that reminds him all too well that things you joke about from high school now weren’t all that funny at the time.

“So I’m like _this_ close to full-on sobbing, and this lanky dude just marches on over and punches this kid to the ground.”

“Y’know, I can’t tell which one’s Whelk in this story, dude.” Stephen couldn’t help the words that came tumbling out. _You fucking idiot, Spigman._ Thankfully, Noah let out another laugh and launched another crumpled paper ball at Stephen, which missed by about three feet.

“Yeah, I know right? He’s kinda mellowed out now, but back then he’d just floored this kid with a single hit, slaps my shoulder and says ‘Czerny? Whelk.’ And just strides off like he’s James fucking Bond or something? And when I finally get up to my dorm room, there he is perched in the windowsill smoking out the window.” He smiled gently. “Roomies for life man. Whelk’s taught me everything I know.”

Stephen tried to equate everything he knew and liked about Noah with the slippery dishonesty and bare-faced rudeness of Whelk and came up blank. He honestly couldn’t imagine Whelk doing anything remotely noble or kind.

“I mean, I don’t know how Whelk never got in trouble for that, he’s like that one guy who could get away with _anything._ Still is really.” The topic of Lily hung unspoken between them. Noah had tried to ignore Whelk, but there was only so much distance two people could achieve when they slept in the same room.

“He’s always got my back,” Noah added quietly, after the silence stretched out between them. “Even after he does stupid shit, I know he’s got my back.”

*

After an hour or so, the snow began to thud unceremoniously against the windowpanes. Darkness had crept in, and any attempts at studying were slowly being forgotten.

“Do you wanna stay for dinner?” Noah had asked, tucking his pen behind one ear after furiously crumpling the third sheet of incorrect Latin declensions and tossing it away. Stephen had shrugged; both of his parents were busy working and he really didn’t fancy going back to a cold empty house. In what felt like no time at all, Noah had ordered a takeaway from the one Chinese takeaway Henrietta had to offer and was in the process of brewing a flask of hot cocoa using a mini kettle he’d produced from somewhere near Whelk’s desk.

Stephen sat cross-legged on Noah’s bed, nursing a box of chow mein, unsure of himself. Noah flung himself down onto the bed next to him, and let out a melodramatic shiver.

"Oh man, I know what'd make this _even better_." Noah handed Stephen his takeaway box and flask and leant over the side of the bed. From somewhere in the vast expanse of old schoolbooks and odd socks under Noah’s bed, he produced a huge stack of blankets. “It gets fucking cold in winter, and Whelk’s no good for cuddling,” Noah said with a smile as he wrapped the blankets around the two of them. He could feel Noah beside him, his warmth as they sat pressed shoulder-to-shoulder, knee-to-knee.

“Hey, dude, did I ever tell you about the time I broke my collarbone?” Noah asked through mouthfuls of noodles. “It involves an ice-cream van, rollerblades and a fur hat that looked suspiciously like a cat…”

As they cuddled together, sharing hot takeaway food and silly childhood stories, Stephen knew there was nowhere else he'd rather be for Valentine's Day.

*

Unfortunately, the next day brought with it Stephen’s least favorite part of high school: the ever-pressing future.

For all of the security at Aglionby, Stephen was surprised and mildly horrified at how easy it was for Noah to stroll into Mountain View High pretty much unquestioned.  Memories of Valentine’s Day still glowed warmly in his chest, but now he was faced with the cold hard reality of an ordinary Thursday. Classes had finished for the day, but he’d scheduled a meeting with the careers advisor and the slightly nauseous feeling he got every time he thought about life after Mountain View just would not go away.

“Are you sure you wanna come?” Stephen had lost count of how many times he’d asked, but Noah just smiled and draped an arm across his shoulders. It was funny how much that gesture meant to him, and even now his chest filled with that same tightness it had when they first met.

“Sure, we just gotta get this over with, then we can get gelato, yeah?” Just feeling Noah at his side alleviated some of Stephen’s anxiety. He liked the way Noah always said ‘we’, the way they were almost joined at the hip these days. With a quick kiss on the cheek, Noah headed off to the common room to hang out with Delgarno, navigating the corridors with surprising familiarity. “You’re gonna nail it!” Noah’s voice echoed down the corridor. Stephen’s fear melted away into a pleasantly buoyed feeling; people rarely had such faith in him.  He swallowed nervously as he rapped on the door with more confidence than he’d felt.

Unfortunately, the careers advisor was somehow exactly how Stephen feared she would be.  Her smile was wide and glossy, but her eyes were flat and emotionless, and Stephen forced back a shudder.

“Stephen?” she asked, gesturing distractedly to the seat across the desk from her. She looked as if she’d rather be anywhere but in this small stale room, and despite her friendly tone, Stephen could tell the students who came to see her all blended into one indistinguishable face, an assembly line waiting to churn out as many average students as it could.

So he nodded, and took the seat, clutching his portfolio folder in front of him with both hands.  He hadn’t shown anyone his drawings, not even Noah, but he hoped they’d be enough to convince them that he could go somewhere farther than Henrietta. _Be brave, Spigman,_ he told himself, clichéd but weirdly effective.

“So tell me, Stephen,” she said sweetly, hands clasped on the desk in front of her, “what would you like to do in the future?”

“I’d like to go to college,” he said firmly, unclipping the folder on his lap and reaching in for his best landscape, the one of Baltimore’s skyline he’d drawn after New Year’s at the Czerny’s. “To study architecture. Here-”

He was about to hand her across his work when her smile contorted into a frown.  Any bravado he’d summoned melted away into nothing and he quickly stuffed it back into the folder.

“I’ve just been looking at your grades, Stephen,” she said blandly, scrolling through a file on the computer. Stephen felt his stomach sink.

“I really don’t think college is an option for you right now. Community college, maybe? In a few years’ time?” She rifled through a stack of papers at her elbow and pulled out a flimsy blue pamphlet for him. He took it limply and stared blankly back at her, tightening his grip on the black folder on his lap.

“But- I know my grades aren’t the best, but they’re getting better,” Stephen forced out, trying to keep his voice calm and level.  He knew his plan to get out of Henrietta was going to be an uphill battle, but he never expected to fall at the first hurdle. “And I have a tutor for Math-”

“I think you should consider going into full-time employment,” she said disinterestedly, rifling through another stack of papers as if he’d never spoken. “At least for a start. Your classmates will be doing the same, so you won’t be the only one.” The smile was back, stretched tightly across her face as she handed him a stack of job applications for local businesses. He’d always suspected that few people from Mountain View went to college, but he never expected to be shoe-horned into a dead-end so quickly. He thought of the glossy Ivy League prospectuses stacked on Whelk’s desk and forced down the sudden wave of nausea.

He wondered what Noah would do faced with someone telling him not to do something. _He’d probably just do it anyway_ , his mind supplied, and the thought almost made him smile. But this wasn’t like being told not to grind along the railings outside the school; this was being told that everything you’d ever worked for was never going to be enough. He doubted that had ever happened to Noah.

“If that’s all?” she asked, not so surreptitiously looking at her watch after a few minutes of silence passed. Stephen clutched the fliers for grocery store vacancies and construction apprenticeships so tightly he could feel them cutting into his hand and nodded numbly. _You should have expected this, Spigman,_ was all he could think as he rose to his feet and left the room solemnly.

*

He just about held it together until they got back to Noah’s car.

“Let’s just- can we go?” Stephen said waveringly, looking everywhere except at Noah as they clambered into the car. If he saw Noah in his Aglionby uniform, with all his Aglionby prospects, he knew he’d burst into tears there and then. And then Noah would be hurt, and it wasn’t Noah’s fault that the universe had dealt the cards this way.

“Sure,” Noah said quietly as he revved the engine.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” he asked after a while, as the silence stretched out between them. Stephen stared out ahead of them and clutched the handle of his folder tightly. He didn’t want to talk about it. He didn’t want to talk about anything ever again. All he wanted to do was build a big bonfire in the next field he saw and toss everything he’d ever drawn onto it and watch it burn.

“I’m not-” he started but the sentence got choked off by the rising lump in his throat. He stared fixedly out of the window. The dark line of the horizon blurred through the tears welling in his eyes. “I’m not going to college.”

And with that Stephen violently burst into tears, burying his face in his hands. Just the act of saying it suddenly made it feel very real and he hated it. He knew he was being melodramatic, but it was as if every hour in the library, every assignment, every moment spent daydreaming, wondering about crafting the buildings around him had all been a waste of time. It was as if the light at the end of the tunnel, the delicate flicker of a candle flame guiding the way out of Henrietta, had been suddenly extinguished with a single gust.

He barely noticed Noah pulling over onto the grass verge and unclipping his seatbelt. Stephen could still hardly look at his beautiful Aglionby boyfriend, but a glimpse of Noah’s face in the darkness through his fingers revealed that Noah looked as devastated as he felt.

“What happened?” Noah asked gently, as Stephen rubbed viciously at his eyes with his jacket sleeves. Noah’s gaze was sure; his expression severe. Stephen hated himself even more for making Noah so unhappy and he wouldn’t, _couldn’t,_ meet his eyes.

“She wouldn’t listen. Just completely shut me down. She wouldn’t even look at my portfolio. She said I should just get a Henrietta job and stay here,” Stephen said in quietly clipped sentences, between ugly sniffs. “I just feel so… worthless.” He felt whiny, ungrateful, half-expecting Noah to misunderstand, laugh it off. But instead, Noah took his hands gently, just like Stephen had that fateful New Year’s Eve. They were warm, steady, his presence like the glow of a lighthouse in a terrible storm. The car was gloomy apart from the twin headlights ahead of them, but Stephen could see the glow of Noah’s face in the moonlight.

“Stephen, listen to me,” Noah said calmly, but there was a flicker of anger in his eyes, an indignation he’d never seen before. “I know this is easy for someone like me to say…” He tailed off, as if unsure how to continue. “Don’t let this get to you. Don’t let this moment define you. Who the _hell_ is she to tell you what you can or can’t do with the rest of your life?” Stephen held Noah’s gaze, tears welling in his eyes again.  

“You take this moment, how you feel right now, and you prove them _wrong_.”

He’d never seen Noah sound so determined, so passionate, his cheeks reddening in fury. Stephen hadn’t realized the tears had begun to fall again until Noah lifted a hand to his cheek and brushed one away with his thumb. He leaned into the touch, and Noah pulled him tightly into a hug.

“Thank you, Noah,” Stephen mumbled, the words half-lost in Noah’s Aglionby sweater.

“It’s okay, Stephen,” Noah murmured in reply, carding his fingers through Stephen’s tangled hair. “I’m here for you. I’ll always be here for you.”


	7. march

By the time Noah’s swim meet rolled around, winter was finally over. The snow had melted, the days stretched longer and the first signs of life were springing from the ground in the flowerbeds. The sight of snowdrops with their bowed heads scattered around the Aglionby campus made Stephen smile gently as he strode through the open gates. Noah’s navy and white varsity jacket hung off his shoulders proudly; the wide expanse of Aglionby Academy no longer fazed him, as he navigated the sprawling buildings with a practiced ease.

The tang of chlorine stung Stephen’s nose as he squeezed past hordes of whooping cargo-pant-clad schoolboys to find a tiny yellow plastic seat. Pristine navy and gold bunting fluttered gently around the spectator stands, and after a couple of races Stephen had to admit, for all of his resentment towards Aglionby, he had to admire their weird love of color-coordination, not to mention their stupidly large pool. There was something both relaxing and a little bit nerve-wracking about watching the swimmers glide through the water, the sheer power of their movements against the pull of water, milliseconds dividing the winners.

Noah was approaching the starting block, floppy hair slicked back and darker from the water, stretching out his arms. He looked strong, confident, and Stephen couldn’t help but feel a blush creep up his neck thinking about those arms around him, those lips on his.

The mood was immediately soured however when Whelk threw himself down in the seat next to him, arm around the back of Stephen’s chair. He exuded the same easy camaraderie the other Aglionby boys around them did, but there was something hard in his eyes that made Stephen deeply uneasy. He stared out at the pool, eyes fixed on Noah approaching the starting block, resisting the urge to flee. Whelk had barely shown his awful arrogant face for weeks, and Stephen was more than a little disappointed he’d picked now to cause trouble. _I have nothing to say to you. Don’t ruin this now._

 A silence fell over the crowd as the swimmers lined up on the blocks.

“What the _fuck_ is this?” Whelk whispered maliciously, loud enough for only Stephen to hear, plucking Noah’s varsity jacket off Stephen’s shoulders. “You have to _earn_ these.”  Stephen saw Noah look up at them, confused, a little worried, but Stephen shook his head just slightly, as if to say _it’s okay, I’ve got this._ He hoped the look was more convincing than it felt.

Stephen figured that it was only a matter of time until they had a conversation like this. He felt like a trapped animal with Whelk’s arm around him and he hated every second. He wished Noah was close enough to mediate. At a glance, Whelk seemed harmless, hands tucked behind his head, justany other Aglionby boy, lazily waving to Noah. Noah waved back at the two of them, with a tense smile as he pushed his goggles firmly over his eyes with the heels of his palms.

But Whelk’s attitude changed as soon as Noah hit the water. Whelk snapped into action, grabbing the back of Stephen’s neck and pushing it down. Stephen resisted but to no avail; he thought he was fairly strong but Whelk was deceptively stronger despite his wiry frame.

“Listen very carefully to me, you redneck piece of _shit_.” Whelk was so close Stephen could feel the warm stale breath against his ear. “Czerny is _mine_.” Stephen remembered the map in Whelk’s room, and Noah’s reticence to talk about what he and Whelk got up to together. He remembered Noah’s plea not to let Whelk know about their relationship, and here they were all cocky and public wearing each other’s clothes. Noah had assured him it would be okay – _honestly, he’s not been at one of my swim meets since 2005 –_ but Stephen could honestly have punched himself for being so stupid.

“Whelk-” Stephen choked out a half-hearted protest, watching Noah’s graceful form carve through the water through the tiny gap between the seats. He was winning, but only just. Whelk shoved Stephen’s head down harder; Stephen let out a grunt of pain, his view now blocked.

“I know about you and him.” Stephen felt a shiver crawl down his spine. “You underestimate me. I took Lily away, just because I _could_.” The cheering in the crowd reached a crescendo as they chanted Noah’s name. Whelk pulled him closer, so close that the words were barely a whisper.

“Just remember. You might have him now, but I had him first. He’s _mine._ ” With one final shove, Whelk strode off without even glancing towards the pool. Stephen was reeling, and it took him a minute to clamber to his feet. His eyes focused out at the poolside; Noah had lost, by less than a breath.

Noah plastered on a smile, shook the winner’s hand, but Stephen could tell he was frustrated by the way he kept clenching and unclenching his fists. _Don’t worry, there’s still two more to go!_ Stephen tried to exude confidence and support, but Whelk had left him feeling hollow and shaken. Whelk seemed so ridiculously powerful, a symbol of everything Stephen had loathed about this school, and he couldn’t help but feel queasy with worry.

 _He’s just jealous, it’s nothing,_ he forced himself to think, but it didn’t make him feel any better.

“Stephen!” a bright voice from behind him shook him out of his anxious stupor and he turned to see Inez, Jenny and Delgarno congregated together, shoving their way past a group of cackling Aglionby boys to sit with him.

“Was that Whelk giving you shit?” Delgarno asked with a hearty elbow to the ribs as they reached him. Stephen let out a silent nod before Delgarno started cracking his knuckles and peering into the crowd. “Man, I’ve been meaning to teach that guy a lesson.” Inez not-so-gently pulled him down into a seat as the next race began. Despite Delgarno’s dramatics, Stephen had to admit he was pleased to see the rest of the Mountain View cohort. He’d seen Inez at lunchtimes, and Delgarno and Jenny when they decided to grace the hallways at Mountain View with their presence, but it wasn’t the same.

“Did we miss anything?” Jenny asked, chewing on her thumbnail as she leaned past Stephen to see the pool.

“Not a lot,” Stephen murmured as the next swimmers took their positions. “Noah lost the 200m butterfly by practically nothing, but he’s up for the freestyle and the medley relay soon.” Jenny cussed and slapped her hand on the back of Stephen’s chair, causing a sanctimonious Aglionby boy in an ugly green polo shirt to lean over and shush her. Delgarno flipped him the bird.

Stephen was too worried to care about how much the group of them stuck out. They cheered themselves hoarse for Noah when he swam and he blew them kisses when he won both races and Stephen was so unbelievably _proud_ of Noah that he wanted to write his name in the goddamn sky. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t quite right.

*

The sun sat low in the sky, casting Henrietta in a warm amber glow. It was March, but it might as well have been August, and Stephen couldn’t help the swell of excitement in his chest at the thought of an entire summer filled with lazy days like this. The rickety metal framework of the skatepark ramps stood out in silhouette against the sky, and Noah was at his side, laughing at a shitty joke so loudly he was snorting. It was a sight to behold, but Stephen loved it anyway.

Noah’s post-win euphoria had extended to a round of gelato from the one parlor in town, and they wandered down the street, their hands chilly around the flimsy paper cups. The weather had been unseasonably pleasant for March, and it was getting colder by the second, but Stephen sensed that nobody wanted to go home just yet. He certainly didn’t. 

It was one of those evenings that could have stretched on forever.

“Ooh, I know!” Jenny exclaimed, clapping her hands together with glee as they emerged from the ugly concrete underpass. “Truth or dare!”

“Oh my god, what are we, twelve?” Delgarno moaned, pausing to chug back his melted gelato out of the soggy paper cup. Jenny sprinted over to the ramp where they usually huddled and pulled out a solitary empty beer bottle.

“Been saving this one for a special occasion!” she hollered, holding it up with triumph as they huddled together in a circle in their usual gap under the big ramp. Stephen wondered if they’d leave a gap for Whelk instinctively, but everyone had been so caught up in Noah’s success, his absense hadn’t come up in conversation.

“Remind me why I love you again?” Inez said, wrinkling her nose but smiling. Jenny placed the bottle into the middle of the circle and sat on her knees next to Jenny.

“My stunning good looks?” she said, kissing Inez on the cheek. Noah’s hand snaked around Stephen’s waist, and Stephen placed his head on Noah’s shoulder, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest. His hair was still damp, and he smelt of chlorine and orange blossom shampoo.

The empty beer bottle span freely in front of them, before slowly grinding to a halt in front of Noah.

“Dare,” he said, puffing up his chest proudly. Stephen had to admit he was a little bit disappointed; he wanted to know everything about Noah, and he also didn’t want to have to move from his warm little corner of the ramp.

“Do a free-standing handstand,” Jenny said, her wide grin stained blue with bubblegum gelato. _This is gonna end in tears,_ Stephen couldn’t help but think, but cheered Noah on nonetheless. Noah kissed Stephen on the top of his head before he scrambled out into the middle of the park. To his surprise, Noah managed to do a handstand for all of three seconds in the middle of the asphalt before crumpling into an ungainly heap. Jenny and Inez cheered, Delgarno booed and Stephen clapped appreciatively as he stumbled back over, with scrapes to his knees and elbows.

“Here’s your prize,” Inez said, tossing a handful of Band-Aids at him as he took his place in the circle.

“Ooh, Hello Kitty today. You’re gonna make a great doctor,” Noah replied, in between opening the packets with his teeth. _Noah, you’re completely ridiculous,_ Stephen thought as he lifted Noah’s elbow to gently rinse out one of the scrapes with a bottle of water. Noah smiled at him crookedly, his hair golden in the light. _But that’s why I like you._ The thought could have gone on, something else pressing in the back of his mind, but he left it at that.

*

The evening wore on in a similar fashion. The sun set in a haze of pink and orange streaks around them as the game got more and more ridiculous. Inez refused to do a single dare, so Stephen learned all kinds of interesting facts about her, like the one time she’d accidentally smashed a window in the Mountain View math department. Delgarno on the other hand refused to answer a single truth, so by the end of the night, he’d fallen off Noah’s skateboard twice, out of a tree once and was sporting no less than five Hello Kitty band-aids. Jenny was somewhere at a happy medium, with the athletic capability to carry out any ridiculous dare without injury. Stephen and Noah had thankfully been spared too many embarrassing questions, with Stephen’s only regrettable tale being the story of how he concussed himself after sliding on a cowpat.

The night closed in around them as Delgarno finished up a very long anecdote about how he got suspended for minor arson in the PE department.

“And _that’s_ why they call me Jack Delgarno: trans criminal mastermind,” Delgarno said proudly, blowing smoke rings over the top of Stephen’s head. Jenny and Noah cracked up with laughter, as Inez rolled her eyes melodramatically.

“Doesn’t ‘mastermind’ mean you don’t get caught?” she said, smacking her gum in between words. Delgarno stubbed his cigarette butt out into the sole of his shoe.

“I guess that’s true. But they can’t catch me anymore. I’m dropping out.” The light-hearted atmosphere melted into a pensive silence. The ever-pressing weight of the future clutched at Stephen’s lungs unbidden as he forced himself to think back to what Noah had told him. In truth, they’d never really expected Delgarno to graduate, but the news he was dropping out made everything suddenly seem very real once more. By the light of the cigarette cherries in the fading dusk, Stephen saw four matching sets of lowered eyes.

They’d leave school, and go their separate ways, and never see each other again.

Stephen tried to think about a world where he left Henrietta and never looked back, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t leave his family behind; the farm would collapse without him there to help out, to do all the labor his father was getting too infirm to do. But Noah wouldn’t stay here forever, and neither would Inez. They had plans that stretched far wider than the town limits of Henrietta.

“We should have one last trip,” Noah said, pulling Stephen closer as if sensing his unhappiness. He smelt of cigarette smoke and swimming pools, but Stephen didn’t mind. He was comforted by the gentle weight of Noah’s hand gently rubbing circles into his arm. “Maybe not now, but maybe in the summer.”

“Somewhere sunny,” Inez said, sighing thoughtfully, retying one of her long braids. “But less sticky than Henrietta.”

“With a beach, god, I love the beach,” Jenny added, stretching out into the tiny space. Delgarno chuckled in agreement.

“And all the gelato you could eat.” Stephen looked up at Noah, smiling.

“Right, that’s it, we’re gonna pack up the Mustang and head for the coast,” Noah announced, waving his cigarette around dramatically. “With sun-bathing and shit-loads of gelato, and one of those inflatable beach balls–”

“How are we all going to fit in that shit-box though, Czerny?” a voice from outside the skate ramp asked, causing them to jump violently. Stephen’s heart sank.

“Jesus, Whelk, give a guy some fucking warning,” Noah called out to him. The tone in his voice was lighthearted, but Stephen could see in the dim glow that his expression was guarded. The five of them stumbled out of their space in the ramp to greet Whelk with varying degrees of warmth. It wasn’t that late, but Whelk’s presence seemed to bring the night to a natural end. His eyes seemed to bore into Stephen, glinting in the darkness, and he pulled Noah’s varsity jacket around himself tighter protectively. 

“We gotta head out,” Whelk said to Noah, nonchalant but the unspoken lack of an invitation hung in the air. Jenny smacked her gum loudly, and smiled passive-aggressively.

“I guess it’s getting late anyway,” Inez said politely, taking Jenny’s arm. Stephen could sense Delgarno resisting the urge to crack his knuckles dramatically again, but honestly Stephen wasn’t sure he’d win in a fight against Whelk anyway. They’d accepted Whelk into their friend group because of Noah, but it was clearly an invite that was edging on tenuous, not in the least due to Whelk’s constant unending rudeness. _At least it’s not just me._

As if to affirm his urgency, Whelk flung his arm across Noah’s shoulders in a way which seemed very familiar somewhere deep in Stephen’s gut. _Who’s the jealous one now, Spigman?_ But the whole gesture had an air of possessiveness that made Stephen more than a little uncomfortable. Noah shrugged him off, as if it was nothing.

“Gimme two seconds,” he said, his usual enthusiasm just a little too forced. “I left my sports bag locked to Stephen’s bike.” It was the truth, but it was also another diversion to talk alone. Stephen wondered if Noah actually knew how transparent he was being. He wondered if he even cared.

“What’s uh, what’s up with Whelk?” Stephen asked falteringly, as he unclipped Noah’s damp bag of swimming gear. His confidence had gone from strength to strength with Noah around, and he hated that just one person could crush it so effectively. _We were having such a nice evening too._ Noah rubbed a hand on the back of his neck nervously, staring down at his tattered sneakers.

“It’s a long story.” Stephen felt a little queasy. Whelk’s words from earlier echoed in his head. _Czerny is mine._ “You’ll probably think it’s weird anyway.”

“Czerny!” Whelk hollered, his whole demeanor echoing an angry parent hauling their kid away from the park. _How petty,_ Stephen couldn’t help but think.

“I’ve gotta go,” Noah said, shaking his head as if the whole problem would dissipate with that one gesture, but his smile was hollow. Stephen hated how quickly Whelk could change things, how much more guarded Noah was around him.

“I- I won’t think it’s weird,” Stephen insisted weakly, and the fragile smile on Noah’s face splintered.

Noah pulled Stephen into a tight hug, but Stephen couldn’t feel comforted by the gesture at all.

“It’s not my secret to tell,” he murmured into Stephen’s shoulder.  Stephen suddenly felt terrible. _Whelk’s a jackass, but this is just as much about your jealousy as his. You might not like him, but Noah clearly does, so get a fucking grip._ When they broke apart, Noah gently lifted Stephen’s chin so their eyes met.

“It’s Raven Day soon,” he said with a small crooked smile. “And I know it’s our spirit day, and I _hate_ why they did that, because why should we celebrate being a bunch of arrogant rich jackasses, like what have we _done_ , really?” He paused for a second, trying to figure out what to say next. “But, seeing as I’m the day’s lauded creator, if you’d like to come and heckle these guys with me…” He grinned, eagerly.

Stephen smiled back, and nodded. Just five months ago, the thought of Aglionby Academy and its students just made him angry with resentment. Even the thought made his skin crawl with jealousy. And here he was now, being invited to their school spirit day.

“Thanks,” Stephen murmured, staring up at Noah. His eyes were gentle, his face kind in the distant glow of the streetlamp.  The kiss they shared was soft, brief, a short goodbye, but Stephen could have sworn it lasted hours. There, under the pinprick glow of the Henrietta stars, Stephen could have kissed Noah Czerny forever.

“I’ll see you there,” Noah said, kissing Stephen’s cheek once more before fading into the darkness.


	8. april (part 1)

The unseasonably warm weather over the last month had slowly escalated into a full-blown heatwave, and Stephen was loathing every single sticky second.  The dim glow of sunrise crept through the gap in the thin drapes, as Stephen peered between them at the dark undulating line of the horizon. A warm breeze rolled in through the open window, tousling his hair, rustling the stack of papers on his desk, catching at the chain of blurry polaroids strung alongside his bed.

The low distant hum of the Mustang drew nearer; the bright glow of headlights sliced through the darkness. Stephen wondered if he’d ever get tired of the thrill that he got from seeing that audaciously red car pull into the yard. He pulled the drapes shut, and smoothed down his t-shirt frantically.

The rhythmic knock on the door. Stephen lunged for the stairs, ready to take them three-at-a-time if need be but his mother beat him to it. He froze on the landing, not sure whether to go move.

 “Oh, hi Noah. How’re you this morning?” Not for the first time, Stephen was pleased at how well Noah and his mother got along. In retrospect, he shouldn’t have expected anything different; Stephen couldn’t imagine Noah not getting along with anyone.

“Hi, Mrs Spigman.” He could hear the sleepiness in Noah’s voice and smiled to himself. “I’m well, thank you. Very excited for Raven Day.” The sudden appearance of Noah’s practiced Aglionby manners around Stephen’s parents couldn’t help but make him chuckle, just a little. It certainly helped when he met Stephen’s father, that was for sure. Plus, it was a side to Noah that Stephen very rarely saw, or in this case heard, which was so at odds with his usual spontaneity that it made him smile.

“Just go on up,” Stephen heard his mother say, and he could hear Noah’s footsteps racing up the stairs in response.

“Good morning!” Noah exclaimed as he reached the top, pulling Stephen into a tight hug. Stephen stumbled, caught off-guard by Noah’s speed, but replied by burying his face into Noah’s neck and mumbling a ‘good morning’ in response. “I brought you some khakis,” Noah said, pulling away to hold up a plastic bag with a neatly-folded pair of pants inside. Stephen took it from him and guided him into his tiny attic room.

As Stephen got changed, Noah perched on the desk answering his many, many incoming text messages. It was a constant cacophony of well-wishes, an incessant _ping_ every time a new one came in.

_hav a gud raven day!!!  catch u l8r!!!_

“Okay, this says it’s from Inez, but there’s no way in hell she’d ever change out part of a word for a number.”  Stephen nearly tripped over his pant leg in the background, and Noah looked up from his perch with a raised eyebrow.

“Jenny?” Stephen said, righting himself frantically, blushing furiously.

“Of course.”

_can’t go wrong with a good ur mom joke xo_

“Typical. I asked Del for speech pointers, and this is what I get?” Noah looked up as Stephen finished fastening his belt. “Amateur.”

_Are you coming to breakfast any time this year?_

_“_ Classic Whelk.” That’s all Noah had to say about that one, and Stephen felt his good mood ebb a little at the thought of having to face Whelk again. He shook the thought away as the last text came in.

_powodzenia!! xxxx_

“It’s from my mom. Means ‘good luck’ in Polish.” Noah’s voice was quieter now, and he smiled gently down at the screen. It was a warm, genuine smile, a special one that Stephen only rarely saw. He couldn’t help but love how even all this time, there were still things about Noah that he was only just learning.

“Ugh, I hate how Headmaster Child always makes me wear the uniform,” Noah moaned, the smile melting into frustration. He hopped off the desk dramatically and made for the dusty hanging mirror to straighten his tie. Noah looked just that bit smarter than usual: shirt tucked in, top button fastened, unscuffed Top-Siders in place of his usual tattered Converse. Stephen threw open the drapes; the saturated glow of early morning’s golden hour streamed through the window. “Like, doesn’t he realize I made the dress code for Raven Day _because_ I kinda hate this?” Stephen smiled gently and moved over to Noah’s side. He plucked a stray blond hair from Noah’s navy sweater-clad shoulder.

“You look good. Great, even.” Stephen cringed inwardly at how bad he was at giving compliments, but Noah’s pout split into a cheeky smirk. “And if it makes you feel any better, I feel a bit silly too,” he added, gesturing to his white T-shirt and khaki pants combo. The t-shirt was old and a little tight around the shoulders, plus he had to roll up the hems of the pants, but it did in a pinch. Noah had reminded him multiple times leading up to April 1st that he didn’t have to wear the Raven Day dress code, but Stephen desperately wanted to stand out as little as possible. Plus, he had to concede the dress code _was_ Noah’s idea, and he didn’t want to distract from what was pretty much his boyfriend’s most prized achievement to date. Noah draped an arm across Stephen’s shoulders.

“ _You_ look great,” Noah replied, punctuating his comment with a peck on Stephen’s cheek. Stephen felt his face flush as he grinned.

He stared at the two of them in the mirror, twin smiles staring back, twin halos illuminated around them. The sky through the window behind them was cloudless and bright. It was going to be a sunny day.

*

Ordinarily, the last place he’d want to be in an April heatwave would be a huge assembly hall filled with hundreds of other bodies, but here Stephen was in Aglionby’s Gladys Francine Mollin Wright Memorial Theatre, surrounded by a sea of schoolboys, waiting for Raven Day to commence. Huge navy and gold banners hung imposingly along the sides of the room, adding to the claustrophobic atmosphere. He half-wondered what his classmates were doing at Mountain View, if they’d even noticed he’d decided to pull a very strategic sick day.

“Raven Day,” said the gaunt headmaster as he leaned on the stage’s ornate lectern, ‘is more than a day of school pride…” Stephen had to admit that he wasn’t exactly listening with intent as the headmaster droned on about Aglionby’s status as the pride of Henrietta. He found it a little insulting really. _You’re here for Noah, remember? This is his day._ Going by the way some of the other students were mouthing along to the monotone voice, Stephen could tell the same thing had been said at every Raven Day previously. He had to admit it was impressive, if a little creepy.

“…and for the third consecutive year, we welcome our day’s creator, Noah Czerny, to start things off.”

In response to the headmaster leaving the stage, the student audience clapped twice robotically. Stephen didn’t move, and immediately felt like an imposter. The weird intricacies and many, many traditions of Aglionby were something he’d never wrap his head around. He craned his head to try and spot Noah over the sea of schoolboys in front of him.

As Noah took to the stage, Stephen saw that he did look really quite polished when he took to the stage, something which he had to admit made his heart flutter a little.

“Hi everyone, welcome back for another year of Raven Day.” Noah’s smile looked a little strained as he stared out across the student body, but he seemed to relax when he began to speak. Noah had a bit of a knack for public speaking that Stephen envied, even if he worried incessantly beforehand. Stephen had fielded countless 2am texts in the days and weeks preceding Raven Day, asking which anti-establishment one-liners and ornithology puns were appropriate. ( _None of them_ was the general gist, but it was worth a try.)

“Most of you have seen me here before, in Raven Days gone by, but for all the freshmen and guests today, welcome.” Stephen caught Noah’s eye and blushed deeply. A couple heads turned, but mostly the crowd seemed disinterested, desperate to get outside into the fresh air.

“I’m going to keep this nice and short,” Noah continued, clasping his hands together tightly on the lectern. _I gesticulate way too much,_ he’d admitted to Stephen over pizza a few days before. _It was so bad in the first Raven Day speech, they joked for weeks after that I was actually gonna take flight._ He’d laughed about it then, but Stephen could tell from his eyes that he was still terrified about it happening again. Stephen knew the audience had no way of knowing how terrified Noah was, and if Stephen hadn’t already known, he never would have guessed. Noah was the picture of Aglionby perfection: well-groomed, well-spoken, and positively _brimming_ with charisma.

In that moment, Stephen was just so proud of Noah for standing up on that stage, for telling the story of his dream. His eyes shone with enthusiasm, with passion, with _love_. It was the same Noah he’d heard on that dark March night after all of Stephen’s aspirations had been crushed into dust. _You take this moment, how you feel right now, and you prove them wrong. _It was the same Noah who did the most complicated skateboard tricks without any fear, who always made you feel like you belonged, even when you felt the whole world was against you. It was the same Noah who’d go to the ends of the earth for those close to him. Hearing Noah speak made Stephen want to follow his dreams more than ever, to do anything and go anywhere he wanted. Noah’s words made him want to seize the future tightly with both hands and never let it go.

“-but thanks to my sister Adele, and to all of you here in front of me, we get to make that fever-dream a reality.”

This time Stephen remembered to do the double-clap, if slightly out of time, but he didn’t mind one bit.

*

The theme for Aglionby Academy’s third ever Raven Day was ‘fight or flight’, a glorious array of interweaving handcrafted kites battling for the prospectus covers, and a level of thinly-veiled bloodthirst enough to keep the students interested.

“Violence wasn’t really what I had in mind,” Noah told Stephen as they made their way out to the quad, kites in hand. “But honestly, a battle has the same effect as what I’d dreamed.” As they reached the center of the grassy field, Stephen had to admit that Noah was right.

All around them were birds on sticks and strings, some painted, some fabric, some sequined, all of them beautiful.  Stephen could no longer see the imposing brick of the Aglionby buildings, nor the thousand identical Aglionby boys, bodies all vying for space in the dusty grass of the quad. He saw ravens of all colors and sizes swooping and diving, blocking out the clear sky overhead. The thick heat of a Henrietta spring was sliced through by the breeze which lifted the birds far, far above their heads.

All he could see was Noah, casting his kite into the air.

In that moment, Noah was the most beautiful person Stephen had ever seen. His shirt had come untucked and he’d loosened his tie, the uniform as rumpled as he ever was. He looked so happy, so carefree, so _young_. Stephen’s papier-mâché raven entwined with Noah’s meticulously feathered one above them, tangling the strings together. The press of warm bodies, the childish war cries and raucous laughter, the sun beating down on their upturned faces.

Noah and Stephen laughed and joked and smiled so hard their cheeks hurt. _I never want to forget this_ , Stephen told himself as he hugged Noah tightly. A picture in time, a moment captured in his mind forever.

And in that second between breaths, between thoughts, Stephen realized that there was something he hadn’t said, something that he needed to say. The more rational part of his brain warned against it, _it’s too soon, you’ve got the rest of your lives to say stuff like that_. Just the idea of expressing how he felt made his throat close tight with fear. _What are you even going to say?_ But Stephen never was good with words, and so they came tumbling out anyway.

“I love you, Noah.”

The words hung in the air, conspiratorial, quiet, breathed softly against Noah’s ear. Time seemed to freeze, the cheers of raven boys faded into silence. Between them stretched a single perfect moment, terrifying in its uncertainty, waiting for a response to make or break it.

“I love you too,” Noah whispered back, a dark blush crossing his cheeks.  Above them, the birds sailed higher with every gentle breeze. The laughter of youth carried through the air. The smell of Noah’s aftershave hung on his clothes as they embraced. A dream come true. 

_I never want to forget this day._

But the moment was shattered in an instant by the piercing two-tone chime of Noah’s phone. Stephen felt a cool absence as Noah stepped away to answer it. Time had not yet returned to normal. They were two stationary figures in amidst the swooping swirling ravens, two ships adrift at sea.

“Whelk? Is everything okay?” Stephen suddenly felt very sick at just the mention of his name. He’d wondered where the bastard had gotten to. _He ruins everything._ Stephen knew it was just some deep-seated resentfulness; he forcefully reminded himself not to be so petty. Their ravens overhead suddenly looked less like a mirage and more like the circling of carrion birds, waiting to pick bones clean. Even though Noah and Whelk had been friends for years now, Stephen just couldn’t shake the unpleasant feeling he got whenever Whelk was around. _He’s just jealous of me, that’s all_.

“I’ll come get you. It’ll be okay.” The phone call was over almost as quickly as it had begun. _Jealousy, that’s all it is._ The ravens still surrounded around them but the magic was gone. In the bright daylight, they were just paper and plastic, artificial pride. Noah and Stephen’s ravens sat in a sad heap where they’d crashed to the ground, crumpled and broken. Noah took Stephen’s hands in his; they were warm, his grip insistent.

“I am so, so sorry about this, Stephen,” Noah said, his face pinched with worry. “Whelk needs me.” Stephen couldn’t help but nod, trying to hide his bitterness. “I’ll be back as soon as I can, okay?”

And with that, Noah kissed him, gently, quickly. The soft press of lips on his was gone before he could register if it had ever been there at all.

Had Stephen known that would be their last kiss, would he have tried harder to remember what it felt like? Had he known what would happen that night, would he have tried harder to commit to memory every single freckle on Noah’s cheeks, every strand of messy hair? Had he known, would he- _could he_ have done anything to stop it?

The sea of ravens parted to let Noah pass, before swallowing him whole.


	9. april (part 2)

The dull glow of early morning pressed against the drapes in Stephen’s window. His alarm trilled loudly in the silence and he reached out an arm aimlessly, thrashing until it was silenced. He turned his phone towards him, the blue glare blinding through half-shut eyes. _No new messages_. Stephen rolled back onto his bed, his phone a blocky deadweight on his bare chest. April 2 nd, just another day. _You’re late for school, time to get up._ The heatwave had broken overnight; he suddenly felt very cold.

*

Always late, always rushing, texting with one hand and downing a glass of OJ in the other.

_You never called last night, is everything okay? x_

It tasted sour in his mouth, a familiar clash with the peppermint of toothpaste. Burnt toast smell, backpack over shoulder, glass in sink, a shouted _goodbye_ to his father as he snatched his keys off the painted hook by the door. Always late, always rushing, it was any other day.

*

The school day passed in a gray haze. He got the answer wrong in History when called on, so wrong a snicker went up among his classmates. He had lunch with Jenny and Inez, who asked all kinds of questions about Raven Day and Noah and made shitty bird puns while feeding each other red Jello with the tiny scoops. He got stuck on the same math equation for 45 minutes, eventually erasing the crabbed, illegible numbers so hard the paper ripped. He forced himself to stare at his textbooks in the library after school until his eyes crossed.

He missed Noah.

Stephen stared at his phone as he leant against his rickety bike. _No new messages._ He wasn’t much for multiple texting without a response, but Noah wasn’t really one for not replying instantly. _It’s been less than a day, calm down_ , he told himself sharply.

With a sinking heart, Stephen ran over the previous day’s events in his head. It had been barely 24 hours, but it already felt like a distant memory. The early morning meeting, the rousing swell of the speech, the sea of beautiful ravens. _He’s probably snowed under with work. Maybe the school wants him to start on next year’s Raven Day already._ Stephen had first-hand experience with Noah’s avoidance, but he usually texted back, even if it was only a word. Since they’d been dating, this type of radio silence was rare.

 _It’s because you said ‘I love you’ too soon, you fucking idiot,_ he chastised himself, not for the first time that day. The bike lock broke in two under his hands and he cursed loudly. Anxiety twisted poison ivy around his heart. _Sure, he said it back, but you put him on the spot._

Stephen tried to push the dread out of his mind, dialing Noah’s phone number as he pushed his bike towards the road. Straight to voicemail.

_You’ve reached Noah Czerny, skater ext-_

Almost instinctively, Stephen pressed end call as he climbed onto the threadbare saddle, forcing the worry to the back of his mind. Hands shaking in the damp cold, he cycled towards the skatepark, asphalt gleaming slick with the haze of April rain.

And as Stephen emerged from the dark of the underpass into the fading light of early evening, save for a single ugly crow atop the biggest ramp, the place was deserted.  A thin mist of rain soaked him to the skin as he tried to rationalize his thoughts. _Of course he wouldn’t be here on a day like today._

Stephen checked his watch. _5pm_. His parents would be expecting him back for dinner soon; his father would need him on the farm.  _Give him time. You can talk it out._ Stephen wished the more sensible part of his thoughts was more convincing. With clammy hands and a heavy heart, he cycled off in the direction of home.

*

The police cruiser rolled up to his house late that night, slow and silent. His mother was concerned; his father furious. _Oh god, this is about me missing school yesterday_ , was Stephen’s first thought, but the solemn expression of the lone police officer at the door made him feel suddenly very afraid.

“Stephen Spigman?” she asked. Stephen nodded uncertainly, stepping aside for her to enter.

“Should I be calling an attorney?” Stephen’s dad hissed to him as he stomped in, eyeing her suspiciously. Stephen’s mother saw Stephen frozen by the door and took his hand. Gently, she guided him to the table, her smile tight. _This… isn’t about me,_ Stephen thought. He felt nauseous. The police officer smiled sympathetically, her eyes kind, but if anything it made Stephen feel worse.

“Do you know Noah Czerny?”

Stephen nodded. He forced himself not to look at his father with his lips pressed together in angry silence. _Those Agli'nby boys are nothin' but trouble_ , he’d said more than once, before Stephen had even met Noah. _Keep away from them._

“I’m afraid he’s missing.”

It was as if the world had dropped out from beneath Stephen’s feet. He couldn’t quite work his face into a response, so she repeated what she’d said. Her words felt distant, as if she were shouting them from the other side of an empty plain. He was struggling to process what he was hearing. Noah’s presence in Henrietta had been a touchstone, an anchor point. It had been everything to him, and now it was gone he was falling, _falling_ -

“We understand you and Noah are close?” she continued, her voice soft, coaxing. Stephen felt his throat tighten. He didn’t want to come out to his father like this. He _couldn’t-_

The brittle silence hung in the air between them. Stephen stared at a coffee cup ring on the table in front of him, eyes fixed on that perfect unbroken circle.

“I’m sure we’ll find him,” the police officer said placatingly, finally realizing that Stephen had nothing to say. “He’s almost eighteen, and he’s taken his car. He’s probably bunking off, or off somewhere without signal.” Stephen’s mother nodded understandingly; Stephen fought against the rising bile in his throat.

Sure, from the outside, someone like Noah, beautiful, flighty, directionless Noah, would be the type of kid who’d just pack up one night and disappear to follow his future. But Stephen knew Noah was never the sort of person to do it alone.

*

The Czerny family drove down from Pennsylvania early the next morning.

Mr Czerny was a mess; Mrs Czerny composed and quiet. Hannah and Adele just looked lost if anything, their eyes vacant.  They sat across from each other in Stephen’s living room; the Czernys on the couch, Stephen and his friends on an assortment of wobbly fourth-hand chairs.

“Do any of you know where he might have gone?” Mrs Czerny asked quietly. Her calmness unnerved Stephen. She might as well have been in a business meeting were she not slowly and deliberately shredding a paper napkin in her hands.

Stephen looked blankly across at his friends. Delgarno stared down at his hands, clenching and unclenching them into fists. Jenny’s face was blotchy from crying. Inez kept twirling one tiny braid around her finger so fiercely that Stephen thought she might pull it out. Whelk was conveniently not there.

“We didn’t see him at all yesterday,” Delgarno said, refusing to meet Mrs Czerny’s eyes. He sounded as calm as Mrs Czerny, but the artificiality of it all hung limply in the air. “Well, apart from Stephen.” It wasn’t meant to sound like an accusation, but it felt like one all the same, piercing an arrow straight into Stephen’s heart.

It felt as if all eyes in the room suddenly snapped to Stephen. He felt as if he were on trial for something terrible. They looked to him like he had all the answers, pleading, _you know him best of all, where is he?_ He hadn’t slept at all that night for thinking.

“Last time I saw him was on Tuesday afternoon, Raven Day.” His voice sounded strangely hoarse, distant and unfamiliar. “He had to go suddenly to help Whelk with something.” Mr Czerny looked desperately at his wife who nodded gently in response.

Stephen thought about Whelk’s absence at this little gathering. He’d thought that it was something to do with Whelk not wanting to show his grief to the others, or be seen in Stephen’s house, but something didn’t feel quite right.

“Barry told us that Noah’s gone on a long road trip,” Hannah said quietly, her face pale and pinched. Her mascara streaked dark stripes down her cheeks. Of course they’d asked Whelk first. But the whole thing sent a strange wave of confusion through Stephen’s mind. It just didn’t make sense. And clearly the Czernys thought so too otherwise they wouldn’t have come all the way from Pennsylvania.

“I mean, he’ll be eighteen soon,” Mr Czerny said, almost to try and rationalize the information for himself. “We always let him make his own choices, forge his own way in the world…” His eyes bored into Stephen with desperation. _Somebody’s got to know something about this._

Noah’s parents had been so kind to him at that New Year’s party, and Stephen had admired them so much. But he couldn’t help but feel that there was something in the way they looked at him which went beyond sadness. It was pity, pity at the size of the town, the ramshackle state of Stephen’s home, the tragedy of Noah leaving without even saying goodbye. Stephen liked the Czerny family, but now more than ever was he struck by how different he was to them. Without Noah there to mediate, they were practically strangers.

With an air of futility and despair, they filed a police report and went home, leaving Stephen with more questions than answers.

*

But Stephen knew who could answer some of these questions.

Whelk sat hunched over and smoking on the steps of the Aglionby boarding house. Around him was a flurry of activity, men in boiler suits carrying furniture past and tossing it into the back of a removals van. Stephen recognized the tattered map of Henrietta as it unfurled in the wind from a workman’s hands. Stephen thought that Whelk would be more meticulous about what happened to his things but instead he just stared off across the quad, dead-eyed. His gaze was fixed on the muddy footprints where a thousand raven boys had torn up the turf not two days ago and scarred the ground.

“What the fuck do you want?” Whelk said blandly, not turning to look at Stephen. Stephen eyed him suspiciously and perched next to him, keeping his distance. Knees to his chest, cigarette held limply between shaking fingers, Whelk suddenly looked much younger. Stephen had so many questions about Noah, but seeing Whelk’s furniture disappearing from the dorm room behind them elicited more questions.

“What happened?” Stephen asked, not looking at Whelk either. A mist was creeping in across the horizon, blurring the trees into strange and unsettling figures. Whelk drew on his cigarette, blowing the smoke away from Stephen.

“I’m broke,” he said flatly. “My father’s been arrested. For _tax evasion_.” He spat the last two words out bitterly. Stephen was a little taken aback; he hadn’t quite expected an answer, never mind a sincere one. And he never thought he’d feel sorry for Whelk, but there was something about how small and pathetic he looked without the years of prestige to back him up that made Stephen warm to him, just a little.

He forced himself back on task.

“Where’s Noah?” Simple enough question. If Noah was planning this whole secret getaway road trip without telling anyone, surely Whelk would know something. Whelk knew everything about Noah. But the vulnerability which Whelk had let slip just a little suddenly disappeared behind the typical wall of arrogance. He sat up properly, drawing himself up so he had to look down to make eye contact with Stephen.

“He just upped and left,” Whelk said pointedly, turning to scrutinize Stephen’s expression. “I phoned him about my dad, bit of a shock and all, and I dunno, it made him realize how short life is?” He smirked at that last bit, and Stephen felt deeply unsettled.

“But it’s the middle of the school year?” The words sounded pathetic even as they fell from Stephen’s lips. He felt so insignificant next to Whelk, even without all his riches.

“Fucking hell, Spigman. You must be more of an idiot than you look.” Stephen bristled but forced himself to stay. “Let me spell it out for you. Noah never needed to stay here. He can do whatever he wants to in the whole wide world. And he doesn’t need _you._ ” His smile was snakelike, his voice a patronizing singsong. He waved his cigarette in front of Stephen’s face; the smoke made Stephen’s eyes water. He hated the idea of Noah just leaving like this, but he always did forget just exactly what Aglionby was like.

And that’s when he saw them. Whelk’s knuckles scabbed and swollen.

Stephen scrambled to his feet, thoughts swirling, stomach turning. Whelk looked at his knuckles curiously then at Stephen, and got up too. He was a whole foot taller than Stephen and loomed menacingly. He flexed his hand; one of the scabs cracked and a tiny rivulet of thick dark blood trickled down, dripping onto the floor.

“Funny what happens when you punch a wall,” he said, blandly, half-amused, the lie only half-veiled. Stephen always thought Whelk looked predatory, but there was something in his expression now that went far beyond that.

Stephen forced himself to stand his ground. _If I leave now, I’m never going to know._

“What have you done?” Stephen spat, the anger morphing into fear in his throat, shoving Whelk backwards. Whelk was taller than Stephen, but the action had taken him by surprise and he stumbled and fell back against the wall. “What have you _done?_ ”

“What have I done?” Whelk echoed, pushing back. “You wanna know where Czerny is? He’s out there, following his fucking dreams, in a place far better than Henrietta.” He pushed Stephen back, causing him to lose his balance and fall hard on his ass on the stone steps.

“He’s out doing all the shit you’ll never be able to.” Whelk shook ash over Stephen’s head, and stalked off back inside the boarding house.

Stephen phoned the tip-line that night, told them that even though Noah was last seen with Barrington Whelk, the bastard had no alibi. The detective on the line all but laughed at him. “Thanks, kid. We’ll be the judge of that,” was the only thing the voice said, but Stephen knew that really meant: “Whelk’s word means more than yours, trailer trash.”

Now more than ever did Stephen hate Aglionby and everything it symbolized in Henrietta. On a whim, sick to his stomach, Stephen dialed Noah’s number again, his hands trembling so much he could hardly press the buttons.

_You’ve reached Noah Czerny, skater extraordinaire._

This time he let the message run.

_I’m probably out following my dreams, so leave me a message, yeah?_

He thought of Whelk and the detective and the careers advisor and everyone who’d ever told him he wasn’t good enough. He thought about the idea of Noah, out there in the world, doing what he loved without the shackles of Henrietta to hold him back. He thought about the truth, Whelk’s bloody knuckles and shitty alibi. He couldn’t shake the feeling of something more sinister at work. The bile rose in his throat and he couldn’t stop himself from throwing up. It didn’t make sense, and Stephen hated things that didn’t make sense.

*

April 24th rolled around. Stephen turned eighteen. The four Mountain View kids met at Nino’s with party hats and cards. Jenny even brought a cake. Nobody brought up Noah, but his face still smiled from the milk cartons in their houses, and on faded posters littering the streets. Their grins in the polaroids from the party never quite reached their eyes.

*

August 3rd rolled around. Noah turned eighteen. The four Mountain View kids met at Nino’s with solemn faces and weary eyes.

The police quietly dropped the missing person’s case.

*

Months and months passed by in a blur. Stephen toiled long hours on the farm, the manual labor straining his muscles and numbing his mind. He worked with Delgarno at the animal shelter, cleaning out cages and sweeping the floor.

Delgarno became Stephen’s closest friend. Stephen learned all about the bullshit his family had given him for being trans, how they’d thrown him out, how he’d moved to Henrietta to stay with his abuela. Abuela Delgarno was a fierce woman, but she was also fiercely kind, and she looked out for Stephen like he was her own grandchild. Stephen knew Del would have dropped out long ago if she hadn’t been there for him.

He worked with Jenny at the dollar store, stacking shelves with inspirational hand-carved signs and brightly-colored plastic wine glasses and hideously unseasonal snow-globes. Inez had moved out of state with a full ride to Penn Med, and Jenny was saving every single dollar she could until she could move up there too. It would be a lot quieter without them around, but they hadn’t been the same without Noah either.

He took up delivery work for Nino’s on his piece-of-shit bike.

On his very first night, in the middle of January, he delivered to the Aglionby dorms. Just the sight of the huge brick buildings, museum-like masterpieces, made Stephen feel tiny. He tried not to think of the time he’d spent there but it kept pushing its way into his mind. _The soft kisses in the art department with the huge windows and shafts of dusty light. The salt of takeaway food, eaten in the dorm room with the bed unmade and the photos on the walls. I never did return that jumper. The sharp smell of chlorine, the feeling of shouting ‘til hoarse watching him win yet another match._

 _The sting of being pushed to the ground by Whelk, the bruises from hitting the stone._ Stephen stared up at the boarding house. He couldn’t do this. He thought of Delgarno and Jenny and Inez and how hard they were working. He thought of the future he was working towards, the future that Noah would never have wanted him to sacrifice.

Unthinking, unfeeling, he climbed up the stairs. Up and up, past the floor where Noah and Whelk had lived.

“Spigman!” the big burly guy who answered the door was the closest thing Aglionby had to a frat boy and yet Stephen knew him instantly. _If it wasn’t for you running me over that day, Noah and I would never have met._

“Jameson.” Stephen said, pulling out the pizza. Jameson responded by pulling Stephen into a tight bear-hug. Stephen reckoned he’d like it better if he could actually breathe, but it was the thought that counted.

“I’m so fucking sorry about Czerny,” Jameson mumbled into Stephen’s shoulder. He was used to people saying this by now, he almost felt numb.

After making Stephen promise to stay in touch, Jameson shoved his pizza payment into Stephen’s hand and closed the door with a sad smile. It was only after Stephen left the building he realized he’d been tipped $100.

*

A harsh winter passed into an unremarkable spring. _What a difference a year makes._

The texts stayed unanswered.  Stephen sat despondently in his room, head in hands. _Look at me now, Noah. I never made it after all._ He thought of his meeting with the careers advisor, how she’d crushed his dreams. And then after, how quietly furious Noah had been, how he’d built him back up again. But he still hadn’t drawn anything since.

 _I’ve let you down._ In all the time since Noah had been missing, Stephen had rarely cried. The strangeness of it all, his jealousy, his _fear,_ and the paralyzing numbness had forced him to barely shed a tear. But at the thought of letting Noah down like this, after everything he’d done, made Stephen bury his face in his hands and sob.

When he opened his eyes, he spotted the community college flier in the middle of his desk. He was sure he had thrown those fliers out months ago, but maybe his mom had found them. _I never told her about these,_ he thought absently. _Only Noah saw these._ He picked it up, and leafed through it. It was the same one from that one awful meeting with the careers advisor; he could tell by the state it was in after he’d crumpled it in his hand. But as he folded it open, a yellow post-it note fluttered out to the floor.

It had been a year, but he’d recognize that illegible red biro scrawl anywhere.

 _don’t throw it away,_ it read. 

Stephen held it between a shaking finger and thumb. _Don’t throw it away._ Noah had probably meant the flyer, keep it for the future, but Stephen couldn’t help but think that it meant something different. Something _more._ Even now Noah was looking after him. He stared out at the dull line of the horizon, the tear tracks drying on his face. The hollow drained feeling he’d harbored over the last year was beginning to ebb away, just a little. Not knowing had been killing him, eating away at his insides slowly. But now a sliver of steely determination had forced its way into his heart. Wherever he was, whatever had gone down with Whelk that Raven Day, Stephen decided that Noah was out there, somewhere and he was gonna see Henrietta again someday. _Come back home, Noah. Come home._

An icy breeze swept through the room, catching at the drapes, interrupting his thoughts.

If Stephen didn’t know any better, he could have sworn he felt something touch his hair.


	10. seven years later

Stephen Spigman pushed his bicycle along the greasy road out of Henrietta, narrowing his eyes against the blinding sun. The chain hung loose, the seat was threadbare, and nothing worked exactly right anymore, but Stephen loved it anyway.

There was just something nostalgic about coming back to Henrietta, his ramshackle little farmhouse out of town, the time he’d spent at Nino’s, the ramp they used to huddle under, smoking and drinking and laughing. Since then the park had been levelled, made it into a strip mall with a fucking Starbucks, but they’d kept the skeletal ramp as some kind of tokenistic gesture. The sight of it made Stephen smile every time.

The last seven years had been a whirlwind of activity. Graduating high school, working and drawing and saving every little penny. Community college, then college, and work. A piece of paper with a dyscalculia diagnosis thrust into his hands in the first few months of college suddenly made every hour wasted on math problems make just that little bit more sense. These days, he was apprenticed to a fancy architecture company in Charlottesville, which wasn’t too far away, but only his parents and Del still lived in Henrietta. Del was happy there. After the owner of the animal shelter had a stroke, she effectively let Del run the whole place. He owned the building now, with plans to expand out of town.

And Jenny and Inez got married in a quiet little affair in New York. Del walked Jenny down the aisle, both sobbing their hearts out. Last Stephen had heard they were in a tiny apartment on the Upper East Side with an ugly one-eyed cat. Inez was still training as a doctor, Jenny waitressing on the side, and both loving every second. Their last postcard carried two lipstick kisses and their warmest regards for their Virginian backwater town. Stephen been planning to go up to see them, but figured he ought to come see his biological family first.

At twenty-four, nostalgia was a curious thing. Stephen had been away from Henrietta for so long it didn’t really feel like home any more. Everything still looked the same, save the odd gentrified corner of town here and there, but Nino’s still served pizza and the gift store still sold ugly knickknacks and Aglionby boys still gathered all throughout town with their navy sweaters and polished smiles.

And pushing his way into his childhood bedroom, Stephen knew it still looked the same as it did at seventeen, posters now faded, and peeling at the corners, and his bike in the yard was still the same, if a bit rusted through in parts these days.  He’d gotten taller, just a little, and stronger too, he realized as his eyes caught on the string of polaroids across his wall. Stephen at seventeen looked so young, the whole lot of them did, the four Mountain View kids and the two Aglionby boys. Not for the first time, he wondered what Noah would like now; was he taller? Was his hair still always a mess? Did he freckle as easily in the sun?

Stephen had thought about Noah often over the last seven years, but never as much as he did when he was home. _That’s the thing about nostalgia, you can never turn back time, no matter how much you want to._

Henrietta had an air of unfinished business about it, and Stephen couldn’t keep away.

*

He’d barely been in the house an hour when there was a knock at the front door. _Probably Del,_ Stephen thought, closing his laptop and peering out of the window. His parents were out buying groceries, and the house was so silent Stephen felt as if even his breathing echoed throughout the rooms. However, sat in the yard was a sleek silver car he didn’t recognize, parked ridiculously haphazardly. A memory stirred in the back of his mind.

Racing to the door, Stephen swung it open to reveal a waif of a girl, blond-haired and hollow-cheeked. She couldn’t have been older than seventeen, but even though he hadn’t seen her in seven years, he’d recognize those freckles, those _eyes_ anywhere. She was taller than him now, but her childish rambunctiousness was replaced by a quiet solemnity. Stephen’s heart sank; he knew deep down what this was about.

“Adele? What are you doing here?”

“Can I come in?” she asked quietly, and Stephen guided her silently to the couch in the living room. The silence between them was brittle. The bags under Adele’s eyes were so dark, Stephen wondered if she’d slept at all this past seven years.

“I think you know why I’m here,” she said, fingers drumming restlessly on her knees. Stephen nodded slightly, his body numb with adrenaline. “They’ve found Noah.”

For a brief beautiful minute, Stephen thought she meant they’d found Noah busking in Las Vegas, unsuccessful but happy to be back, flat broke after living out of his Mustang for seven years, too broke to call home even once.

For a brief beautiful minute, Stephen thought she meant they’d found Noah backpacking in Europe, passport filled with stamps, fluent in five languages and a tacky keyring souvenir for every country he’d visited.

For a brief beautiful minute, Stephen thought she meant _alive_.

“He was in the old churchyard at the edge of Henrietta,” she said in a whisper, her faint voice wavering. “Some kids found him.” _He never left Virginia_. _He never even left Henrietta_. The thought threatened to swallow Stephen whole. He felt the blood drain from his face. Adele was staring at him, tears welling in her eyes. Stephen couldn’t look at her, couldn’t see Noah’s eyes so alive staring back at him. But he couldn’t look away either, or they’d both shatter into tiny pieces.

“They’ve- they’ve arrested Whelk.”

Stephen felt the world tilt on its axis; her mumbled words winded him like a full-body blow. All this time, he’d been telling himself that he’d just imagined Whelk’s bruised knuckles, that his strange behavior was because he was now flat broke and no better than the rest of Henrietta. All this time, he’d thought his dislike of Whelk was just jealousy.

All this time, he’d known deep down and they’d never believed him. He suddenly felt seventeen again, a pathetic nobody, just a Mountain View hick who was never gonna amount to anything. _I should have made them listen, I should have made them believe me. _He clutched at his face with his hands, and didn’t even realize he was crying until he was choking on the sobs.

*

The burial was a quiet affair.

Stephen watched from the bottom of the hill, the hot sun beating down on his face between heavy clouds, hands clasped solemnly as the Czerny family gathered around the freshly dug earth. Jenny and Inez stood to one side of him, Del to the other. It was good to have them all in one place, they’d barely spent any time together since the wedding, but Stephen couldn’t help but feel hollow at the thought that it had to be _this_ which brought them back together.

He still felt the phantom weight of the coffin pressing on his shoulders, so light, so _wrong,_ a feeling he knew he’d carry for the rest of his life. Stephen felt like an intruder here, inappropriate, out of place. His suit was old and stretched across his shoulders, the tie a noose pulled tight under his chin. Flowers of all shades and varieties were scattered across the mound of earth, their bright colours stark against the darkness of the mud.   _It’s like a curtain call,_ Stephen thought. _He’d like that_. But his eyes couldn’t help but fix on the tiny wooden cross marking the spot a headstone would soon occupy. The sight of it, even from such a distance, made his chest grow tight with grief. It made the whole thing seem so unassailably _real_.

_Noah is dead. Noah was killed._ _Noah is dead._

The thoughts circled like a sick mantra in his mind, and he didn’t notice his cheeks were wet at first. It made him want to take his bike and ride far away from Henrietta, far away from the boy he’d loved and lost so long ago. This town had nothing left for him anymore.

The unmistakable _caw_ of a raven made him realize they weren’t alone.

Yards away was a car, bright orange and beat-up but unmistakably Aglionby. Just the sight of it made Stephen think of the Mustang and all the time he’d spent with Noah in it. But he couldn’t pull his eyes away. A small group of Aglionby boys leaned up against it, one stocky and broad, perfectly coiffed in a suit that probably cost more than Stephen’s degree, one tall and menacing with a vicious-looking raven perched on his shoulder, and one strong but bruised, with an ill-fitting suit jacket and a nervous expression. Striding up the hill ahead of them was a tiny girl with spikey black hair and a dress made of hastily-stitched reams of dark lace. She looked disheveled but determined, probably only Adele’s age, and Stephen wondered what they had to do with a boy who was killed over half a decade ago.

The group reminded Stephen of Delgarno and Jenny and Inez when they’d first met, a group of misfits and outcasts all brought together through a common loneliness.

_They’re so young._ He half-wondered if these were the kids that found Noah. Seven years wasn’t that far away from seventeen, but to him it felt like distant history, and they made Stephen numb with the realization of just how young he and Noah had been all those years ago. Noah was just a boy, carrying skateboard scrapes and parking tickets and art projects.  He swam fast, smoked faster, and fell in love easily and completely. And he ended up here, in a box in the ground.

And then the girl made Mrs Czerny cry. Stephen heard the word ‘psychic’ and ‘sorry’ and ‘peach schnapps’ and he wanted to go up to them, yell at this kid for upsetting the family after all they’d been through, ask how she knew about the schnapps, but she’d already gone back to her group of friends. _This is not the time, nor the place._ Before he could think of anything to say, the four of them had clambered back into their atrociously orange car and skidded away, onto pastures new, to the promise of a future Stephen had only dreamed of.

The family nodded at the Mountain View kids – they would always be MV kids, just as Noah would always be an Aglionby boy – as they passed. The sun was low in the sky; dark clouds began to gather overhead. “Let’s head off too,” Inez said gently, looking up at Stephen. The mascara trails down her cheeks were at odds with her placid calmness.

“I think I’m gonna stay for a little while,” Stephen replied quietly, gazing up at the hill. _There’s something I have to say._ Inez nodded; she always did understand what Stephen meant.

“We’ll catch you at Nino’s,” Jenny said, stretching her arm across Del’s shoulders as his tears fell in wracking sobs. Stephen nodded silently, watching them head back into town. He was so lucky to have them, to have someone to talk to about all this. Noah had given him more than just romance; for the first time in his life, Stephen had friends who loved him, who looked after him, and he knew they’d always have each other’s backs.

*

The Henrietta heat was oppressive, the sweat trickling down his back as he walked up the hill. Overhead, the sky was a dark bruise now, bleeding the sickly yellow light of an oncoming thunderstorm.

_It's so small_ , he couldn’t help but think, _this tiny square of earth._

Thunder rumbled somewhere in the distance. Stephen reached into his suit pocket, pulling out a silver hipflask. His father had it engraved for his twenty-first birthday, but he’d rarely used it. The first drops of heavy rain began to fall.

“Hey, Noah,” Stephen choked out, forcing his voice to stay even. All this time, Stephen wondered what he would have said to Noah. _Why did you leave? Why did you pick Whelk? Why didn’t you take us with you?_ But all those questions were wrong now.

“I’ve missed you so much this past seven years. Did you know Jenny and Inez have gotten married? They had a fancy wedding in New York, you’d have loved it. And I live in C’ville now, in a studio apartment on the edge of town.” He tossed the flask from hand to hand, nervously. “I guess it’s kinda like the Aglionby art department. I reckon you’d’ve liked it there too.” The words wouldn’t stop spilling out, all the things that had happened in the last seven years, all the successes and the stupid mistakes, all the life that had been lived.

“I brought this.” Stephen felt stupid clutching a shiny hipflask of peach schnapps in the middle of a graveyard. The rain was falling thick and fast around him, his hair dripping wet; the thunder grew louder, causing him to flinch with every rumble. “I guess… I don’t know why I bought it really. It’s not as good if you’re drinkin’ it legally anyway. I guess it reminded me of you. Like every time I see silver eyeshadow or hear pop-punk on the radio or watch someone skateboarding in the street.” His voice cracked and wavered on the last few words, and he unscrewed the cap, his hands shaking.

“But you’re gone now. So I guess it doesn’t matter.” He tipped the bottle a little, ready to pour it onto Noah’s grave. He’d seen people do this before at funerals and on TV and what the hell did it matter if people thought he was being stupid? He’d had a lifetime of being mocked and resented until Noah came along. The sudden bright flash of lightning jolted him into tipping the bottle over the grave.

“Now then, why would you waste good schnapps like that?”

_No-_

Stephen froze. The voice behind him could only have been in his mind, a cruel trick of the imagination. Maybe it was some other Aglionby boy with a half-ass Henrietta accent mocking him. Maybe it was even one of the kids from earlier.

Stephen turned on his heel, his heart in his throat.

The figure on the hill behind him was closer than he'd thought; Stephen swore he’d have heard the footsteps, but maybe he was just too wrapped up in his own grief to notice. He looked so impossibly young, so impossibly _alive_ , but his hair was still the same blond finger-tangled mess, his Aglionby uniform still rumpled, a dark smudge tracing his left cheek.

There on the hill, sure as life, was Noah Czerny.

It was as if all the air in Stephen’s lungs had suddenly been choked out of him. After the last seven years, hell, the last seven days, he thought that he’d be used to surprises by now. But deep down, after Noah left that Raven Day, Stephen had known something was wrong. And after he’d confronted Whelk with his bloody knuckles and shaking hands, somewhere in his heart, Stephen knew that Noah had been dead all along. But _this_ \- this didn’t make _sense_ , this couldn’t have been anything other than an elaborate prank, and his mind was blank with shock. The hipflask slipped from his hands onto the mound of earth.

“Noah.”

And Noah pulled him tightly into a hug. They were the same height these days, shoulder to shoulder. _It’s over, it’s over,_ Stephen couldn’t help but think. _He’s back._ The thought made him giddy, the waves of nostalgia for his Henrietta adolescence made him swell with happiness.

But Stephen couldn’t help but tremble against the chill of Noah’s skin; he was freezing against the warm buffeting humidity.

Noah broke the hug, staring straight into Stephen’s eyes. The warm glow in his chest disappeared as fast as it had come. Up close, the smudge on Noah’s face was something more than just a charcoal smear; it was a dark bruise, a hollow where his freckled cheek should have been. Stephen couldn’t help but recoil in terror.

In retrospect, he should have known when Noah was there, still seventeen, still in his uniform, that something was wrong. But in the moment, Stephen was a teenager again, the same scared kid he’d been that day when he’d fallen off his bike in the skatepark. Noah was there, right in front of him, but he wasn’t the same.

The news reports hadn’t been subtle when they discussed Noah’s remains, the graphic details of what had happened in that churchyard. Stephen had flipped channels every time, but to see the marks of such horrifying violence up close made him gag.

Noah’s brow furrowed in concern.

“Stephen?”

“What’s going on?” Stephen asked shakily, unable to tear his eyes away from that sickening hollow. Noah couldn’t look at him, could only scuff his topsiders on the soaking grass beneath them. He looked so young, _was_ so young. The slap of raindrops on the old yew tree overhead was almost deafening, broken by the peals of thunder.

“I’m dead, Stephen.” The words were so calm, so matter-of-fact he might as well have been discussing the weather, or what he was having for dinner. “Whelk killed me.”

Stephen willed himself to wake up. This could only be a bad dream, and he’d had plenty of them like this over the last seven years. But when Noah reached out and took his hand, it was flesh and bone, filthy and scraped, and icy to the touch.

“I don’t understand.” Noah met his eyes. Stephen thought he’d never get to see that look again, so kind and loving and patient.

“I don’t know how much time I’ve got left here, Stephen. They’ve moved me from the ley line so it could be minutes, seconds even.” He was just a boy, but he sounded so old, so wise. He’d seen so _much._ The talk of ley lines confused him, but Stephen didn’t care if it meant he could talk to Noah one last time. This was borrowed time, and didn’t they both know it.

Seconds seemed to stretch out between them, a brittle silence.

“I love you, Stephen.” The words hung in the air, suspended between the bellowing cries of the storm. “I loved you when you were walking your bike home that evening in fall, and I loved you when we sat in that ice cream parlor on New Year’s Eve. I just-” Noah pressed his lips together tightly, fighting for composure. “Yeah. I love you, Stephen Spigman, and I’m so fucking proud of you, okay?” He swallowed hard, wide-eyed as he waited for a response.

Stephen smiled sadly. The giddiness in his chest had returned, a panicky fluttering like a bird trapped in a chimney. _Any minute, any second, this is over._

“I love you too, Noah.” He fumbled through his mind, trying to find the words to say, but he was never good under pressure, never good enough with words. “I’m so sorry this happened to you.” He reached out for Noah’s face, brushing his thumb against Noah’s still-intact cheek. Noah had been so composed, so calm and rehearsed. _He’s had seven years to practice too, I suppose._ But he crumpled at the touch, tears running freely down his cheeks.

“Me too, Stephen,” he said with a sad smile. “Me too.”

The storm overhead began to subside. Noah looked up at the sky, where the clouds began to splinter apart to let shafts of light pour through.

“I guess it’s almost time.” Stephen felt his breath catch in his throat. But Noah didn’t look worried, or upset. He looked calm, happy, finally at peace for the first time since Stephen had seen him on that hillside.

“The one thing I hated the most about being murdered was that I never got to say goodbye.” Noah rubbed his hand on the back of his neck. Such a familiar, sheepish gesture. Stephen couldn’t believe he’d ever forgotten just how damn awkward Noah Czerny could be.

“Goodbye, Stephen.”

And Stephen just couldn’t bring himself to say it back. Noah was just so sincere and honest and Stephen knew if he said it out loud now it would come true, a covenant with whatever strange power that was keeping Noah corporeal in front of him. This meeting was closure, the desperately long-sought ending they both needed, but he couldn’t force himself to shape it into words.

But he didn’t need words, not now.

He pressed his lips to Noah’s, his hand still caressing his unbroken cheek. Noah kissed back, icy cold but still unbearably _him_ , feisty and loyal and unrelentingly kind Noah, who couldn’t park his car for shit, who loved silver glitter and vanilla gelato and falling off his skateboard, who saw the beauty in everything around him.

In that moment, they were seventeen again, just two kids on Raven Day, with heads filled with romance and dreams and unbearable _promise_ in their hearts. And, in that moment, Stephen knew that no matter what happened, no matter where Noah ended up, they’d always have each other.

 

**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr [here](https://henriettakings.tumblr.com/)! if you loved prequel!noah, you'll definitely love my friend izzy's post-trk fic [transfixus sed non mortuus](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7377796/chapters/16758832), where noah comes back to life!


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